The Manchester Sports Guild (M.S.G.)
By Jack Swinnerton Reproduced by kind permission of Jack Swinnerton
& Just Jazz Magazine 2002
Jack Swinnerton died peacefully
on 30th June 2008
Part 7: Wild Bill Davison and others...
by Jack B. Swinnerton
Having previously imported Champion Jack Dupree, Mae Mercer and Alton Purnell, Johnny Jones’ London City Agency were promoting their first ‘front-line’ musician (as mentioned earlier, Henry Allen was our initiation and the first to get to the clubs) in
Wild Bill Davison and the Salt City Five. Like a great many who operated some distance away, Johnny would often nip into the MSG for a quick drink and a chat whilst in the area on other businesss. (Great atmosphere! Background music of my taped records on every lunchtime, a fine pint of heer and a chat with fellow enthusiasts.) In one sense a rival in these promotions, our common aim and fascination for the music eradicated harriers instantly.
The temptation to become somewhat blasé and take the situation of our welcome American visitors for granted was rudely halted at the beginning of the new year of 1965. Johnny’s previous artistes did not require the same exchange regulations as ours, but this
one did.
My previous observations in this series, and more to come, have indicated something of the difficult and, indeed, sensitive negotiation which went into each and every one of these tours. Any breath of ill-will from the unions could rock the boat disastrously. The London City Agency ran into such a brick wall with their proposed accompaniment to Wild Bill, the Salt City band. I had no exceptional wish to hear them with Wild Bill. I presumed they were going to sound like the majority of young American traditional bands of the sixties
- a kind of watered down West Coast approach seemed likely. Let me apologise now if I am wrong
- don’t think I have ever heard them. However, they were part of the package deal we booked from Jones. A reminder of the unpleasant foolishness of the exchange system. The British exchange band was to play a number of residences in the USA, whilst the Americans were scheduled for one-nighters in our country. Therefore, the Salt City were not allowed to tour, as the exchange was not considered an equal one. (I must not dwell on this
- my opinions do not embrace trade unions). Thankfully, Wild Bill got through, but too late to alter our admission tickets.
I still possess my programme for the Free Trade Hall appearance of the Eddie Condon band in the 1950s. Too young as yet to thoroughly know the depths of what was so thrilling, but eagerly making new discoveries. Attempts to write down the numbers
being played and my ‘critical’ reaction to the same are scribbled down. Not for publishing today! Whilst I recall Davison quite well, the enduring sight is of Condon seated before his standing group, holding but seldom playing his guitar and even remaining seated to make announcements. It merely seemed strange to a young convert.
Acquiring the services of the recently revived Freddy Randall band had been a constructive move by Johnny Jones. I had already booked Wild Bill and the Salt City band for a double date weekend in January, 1965. (Consecutive dates such as these made a much more memorable impact than spaced dates ever could, giving the impression of the visiting
musician being part of the club. Around at lunchtime to mingle and more relaxed for the evening’s music was satisfying for everyone.) The advance tickets were selling well. On learning that the Salt City would not now be present, but that Freddy Randall would do the accompaniments, it was a natural duty to offer money back if demanded. In fact, not one person did, and ticket sales soared. Should there be some conjecture about accompaniments on that tour, I did engage the Alex Welsh Band as a separate one-off in the whole tour. Engaged deliberately on February 14 (convenient in the programme), it was publicised as Chicagoan, i.e. St. Valentine’s Day Massacre posters, and went down a treat.
Jenks needed a gentle warning of what could be expected of Wild Bill, and I explained that ‘Wild’ was not primarily a description of his horn (which we all know could be somewhat powerful) but more his general life style. A resumé of some of the legendary incidents passed down to us, sometimes involving a similarly outrageous George Brunies, had been related to our somewhat sceptical General Secretary. Whilst Bill must have mellowed somewhat in the many years yet ahead of him, still in his fifties yet, he tore into the MSG lounge bar in blue fur-collared overcoat, horn and whisky bottle under each arm, immediately buttonholing Jenks with a somewhat graphic account of his adventures in England so far. (Later, a couple of ladies admitted that they were ‘potentially’ appreciated on the night. John Pye and I know
- we’re married to them!) Naturally, Bill was having a ball and living up to his reputation, a part of the act which he never for one moment allowed to mar his on-stage performance. Jenks privately considered himself as ‘a bit of a lad’ but could display that below-the-surface reserve that one often detects in those professing liberal views. Finding himself outclassed after a few minutes chat with Davison, Jenks emerged muttering his customary word of astonishment, “Christ,” before hastening down to the beer cellar to check on reserves in readiness for the anticipated excesses of the coming weekend.
In his spiritual home playing alongside Wild Bill, Freddy Randall was in good form over the two days. The band was a pretty versatile outfit, with
Bert Murray doubling trombone and piano, and Ronnie Gleave on vibes and piano. This was the band Bruce Turner left his own Jump Band to join, although spending somewhat more time as an ensemble clarinettist than some of his supporters would have preferred.
“How could anyone fail to be left unmoved by his boyish enthusiasm, his emotional sound, those carefully graded tonal shadings and his explosive use of dynamics and timing?” wondered the Stockport Advertiser, the week following Wild Bill’s appearance.
Wild Bill Davison was one of the great individuals and, whilst critical opinion has often been somewhat divided about his work (even occasionally hostile
- read Hughes Panassié, his playing, particularly on ballads, was particularly tasteful and far from insensitive. Such specialities as Ghost OfA Chance and Memories Of You linger in the memory forty or so years on. He had no superior on those last chorus ‘tear-upsas all reading this article well know. I would rate the three nights, along with Buck Clayton visits (to be repeated soon) as amongst the best of those that the MSG thoroughly supported but was not the instigator of.
* * * * *
It is probably not too difficult to detect from the foregoing that Buck Clayton was about to be remembered at this point. Taking a break from compiling this particular MSG episode and, on opening this morning’s ‘Daily Telegraph; the obituary page was soon spotted. Ruby Braff has passed on. Moving out of sequence now seems appropriate. Earlier episodes of this series contained an accurate observation that only one had survived from our American imports. It is no longer true.
“In many ways, the latest of the Manchester Sports Guild tours which featured the American cornet player Ruby Braff was the most successful of the current series of visits by American jazzmen,” noted G.E. Lambert in the September, 1965, 'Jazz Monthly'. And it was quite a different conception from anything we had organised previously. Braff was a clear generation younger than any ot our previous guests, a man with a reputation gained entirely after the Second World War and, at a mere two years or so older than Alex Welsh, the musicians were contemporaries. In playing with such older musicians as Red Allen,Pee Wee Russell, or Earl Hines, there was a tendency, however admirable, to merely ‘back’ the guests at times. Later, in all of these tours a genuine rapport came through, but it did take some time
- before which the celebrated guest might sometimes be going through familiar routines absorbed years earlier. Mutual understanding and sympathetic aims did emerge. Braff instantly set about organising his numbers with the Welsh band, so that every member of the group was heard to best advantage. An adept presenter, and one who instantly gelled with the audience, Braff was as passionately against what he saw as false show
business gimmicks as anyone I have ever encountered.
(How many ever succeeded in persuading him to autograph? I did, but only after encouraging him to place his signature alongside those of Vic Dickenson, Bud Freeman and Pee Wee Russell on a record that they were all on.) That Ruby was interested in producing good hand sessions with fine solos and no salesmanship was quickly apparent. What we got, in total, and personal preferences aside, was really just about the best integrated tour of the lot, and the professional standards outshone most other visitors. Braff’s imaginative and dynamic approach set a standard very hard to follow
- this I have long considered to be the finest hour of the full Welsh band and guest musician on tour. Not my own personal favourite, let me confess, being more inclined towards the older generation
- you just have to admit the point.
The Vanguard record sessions of the 1950s were probably Braff’s best known records at the time. We had already heard Vic Dickenson in person by now, and Pee Wee Russell had been a very early studio companion of Braff’s, and so we perhaps naturally turned our attention his way in due course. I was certainly aware that in bringing someone of his relative youth over, we were breaking the MSG pattern
- and we eagerly anticipated a different kind of stimulus.
A somewhat surprised glance at the Summer of 1965 tour schedule reveals that we split up our by now traditional opening weekend of the tour in Manchester with an appearance at the Bath Jazz Festival
- must have been an offer we couldn’t refuse - and that we put on a concert at the Conway Hall in London as his penultimate appearance. This was our third try at a London concert hall, having featured Earl Hines at lslington some months previously, and George Lewis even earlier. There was some slight feeling of a little revenge in planning odd concerts in the capital city. In travelling terms, this was a much larger country in those days. We provincial concert-goers had enjoyed the single but spasmodic appearances of our favourites in selected sparse points for years, whilst often enviously observing the profusion of ‘South of Watford’ dates. It was a little wicked malice to have the boot firmly on the other foot for a change. Visiting the Conway Hall concert, George Ellis in his ‘Jazz Beat’ article, reported the strength of the Alex Welsh band on these
ventures. ‘Their adaptability and flair for satisfying the needs of visiting American stars is, perhaps, their greatest strength. The Manchester Sports Guild, those extraordinary importers of superb jazz talent, have been quick to make use of this very strength. Red Allen, Pee Wee Russell, Earl Hines, Ruby Braff
- all have toured with Alex. George Lewis, the odd man out - no inference here, I hasten to add
- toured with the Kid Martyn Band, but this was sound commonsense. After all, in spite of my hatred for all labels attached to jazz, certain banners have to exist. Only a fool would set up a tour for Roy Eldridge with the Ken Colyer Band'.
In selecting the Alex Welsh band for the nationwide tour, we once again permitted ourselves the small luxury of some alternative sounds for our members, holding evenings with the Bruce Turner Jump Band and the Gary Cox Quartet. Drastic changes in th Turner line-up had resulted in the temporary departures of both Dave Markee and Johnny Armatage. Ronnie Gleave on vibes had really become the third ‘front-line’ instrument, following Bruce and Ray Cram on trumpet. Despite a hastily assembled rhythm section, Bruce was on his frequently fine form, and Braff and he enjoyed some really stimulating exchanges. The experiment of Braff with the modernistic Cox quartet was one of a modest series of semi-private musical experiments
- in the case of Pee Wee Russell’s tour, not such a success, but with the flexibility and exceptional musical organisation of Braff, much of value was detected by a discerning few on this night.
* * * * *
On the far left of one of the Wild Bill Davison photographs (the one where I would appear to have had a couple of pints) stands Mick. We haven’t met in well over thirty years now and, whilst his surname now escapes me, it is time to acknowledge his contributions. Many of the photographs accompanying this series were taken by him and merely given to myself, and others as a thank you for the events which were such a joy to him. They certainly bring those days back to us. Thank you, Mick.
* * * * *
One of life’s little absurdities has caused many a nostalgic laugh over the years, so let us hope that this 1963 memory succeeds here. A dramatic day; those old enough always recall what they were doing on the night. Having no access to wireless or television and proceeding straight from work to the MSG on foot, I was in the dark about events. Apparently, news was coming through, although in those days not in immediate accurate detail, of a famous assassination. At about 1pm, one of the young men who administered at the main door came into the bar looking shocked and just blurted out, “Have you heard? Kennedy and his family have been shot and maybe dead.” Equally shocked, I immediately responded, “What! I was only talking to him last night in the club.” “Not Pete Kennedy” (local musician), he blurted with an exasperated laugh, “President Kennedy.”
I still possess my programme for the Free Trade Hall appearance of the Eddie Condon band in the 1950s. Too young as yet to thoroughly know the depths of what was so thrilling, but eagerly making new discoveries. Attempts to write down the numbers
being played and my ‘critical’ reaction to the same are scribbled down. Not for publishing today! Whilst I recall Davison quite well, the enduring sight is of Condon seated before his standing group, holding but seldom playing his guitar and even remaining seated to make announcements. It merely seemed strange to a young convert.
Bert Murray doubling trombone and piano, and Ronnie Gleave on vibes and piano. This was the band Bruce Turner left his own Jump Band to join, although spending somewhat more time as an ensemble clarinettist than some of his supporters would have preferred.
the most successful of the current series of visits by American jazzmen,” noted G.E. Lambert in the September, 1965, 'Jazz Monthly'. And it was quite a different conception from anything we had organised previously. Braff was a clear generation younger than any ot our previous guests, a man with a reputation gained entirely after the Second World War and, at a mere two years or so older than Alex Welsh, the musicians were contemporaries. In playing with such older musicians as Red Allen,Pee Wee Russell, or Earl Hines, there was a tendency, however admirable, to merely ‘back’ the guests at times. Later, in all of these tours a genuine rapport came through, but it did take some time
- before which the celebrated guest might sometimes be going through familiar routines absorbed years earlier. Mutual understanding and sympathetic aims did emerge. Braff instantly set about organising his numbers with the Welsh band, so that every member of the group was heard to best advantage. An adept presenter, and one who instantly gelled with the audience, Braff was as passionately against what he saw as false show
business gimmicks as anyone I have ever encountered.
(How many ever succeeded in persuading him to autograph? I did, but only after encouraging him to place his signature alongside those of Vic Dickenson, Bud Freeman and Pee Wee Russell on a record that they were all on.) That Ruby was interested in producing good hand sessions with fine solos and no salesmanship was quickly apparent. What we got, in total, and personal preferences aside, was really just about the best integrated tour of the lot, and the professional standards outshone most other visitors. Braff’s imaginative and dynamic approach set a standard very hard to follow
- this I have long considered to be the finest hour of the full Welsh band and guest musician on tour. Not my own personal favourite, let me confess, being more inclined towards the older generation
- you just have to admit the point.
. ‘Their adaptability and flair for satisfying the needs of visiting American stars is, perhaps, their greatest strength. The Manchester Sports Guild, those extraordinary importers of superb jazz talent, have been quick to make use of this very strength. Red Allen, Pee Wee Russell, Earl Hines, Ruby Braff
- all have toured with Alex. George Lewis, the odd man out - no inference here, I hasten to add
- toured with the Kid Martyn Band, but this was sound commonsense. After all, in spite of my hatred for all labels attached to jazz, certain banners have to exist. Only a fool would set up a tour for Roy Eldridge with the Ken Colyer Band'.
On the far left of one of the Wild Bill Davison photographs (the one where I would appear to have had a couple of pints) stands Mick. We haven’t met in well over thirty years now and, whilst his surname now escapes me, it is time to acknowledge his contributions. Many of the photographs accompanying this series were taken by him and merely given to myself, and others as a thank you for the events which were such a joy to him. They certainly bring those days back to us. Thank you, Mick.