Memory
Lane

Moe Green talks to Just Jazz

Reproduced from "Just Jazz" Magazine, issue 95, March 2006, edited by Pete Lay, produced here courtesy of  Just Jazz and Moe Green

"I was born in 1939, three months after we fell out with Hitler. The next historic event took place 15 years later. I got my first set of drums! I don’t know what I intended to play, because I wasn’t keen on Jazz and Rock ‘n’ Roll hadn’t been invented. However, early in 1955 I was persuaded to go to a Jazz Unlimited concert at the Free Trade Hall in Manchester. On the bill was the Cy Laurie band, Dill Jones’ Trio, and the Alex Welsh band. Cy Laurie opened with King Of The Zulus and within eight bars I was hooked! Now I knew what I wanted to play!

“I eventually got together a band of like-minded souls, tpt. tmb. clt. bjo. dms. (as they say on record sleeves). The father of the clarinet player was a vicar and they lived in a big Victorian house with a large cellar where we rehearsed every Saturday evening. Eventually we started playing at the local Youth Centre. The audience was quite easy-going musically, but compared to the Pop scene at the time we must have sounded quite lively! At this time I was having problems carting my kit around (I was too young to drive, and nobody owned a car in those days anyway). The snare drum and cymbals were OK, but the 28 inch bass drum was a pig of a thing. Then one morning I awoke with a brainwave: the Wash-house Pram! For all you non Northerners and youngsters, when a pram had fulfilled its original function it was relegated to carrying the family’s wash to the local washhouse. Ours was a coach-built Silver Cross, a veritable Rolls Royce. The bass drum fitted in as though custom-made, and there was room for the snare drum as well. From then on, five  duffel coated figures, one of them pushing an enormous drum, could be seen flitting about the district.

“After some time we decided we were good enough to make a record. So off we went to the Johnny Roadhouse Studio on Oxford Road and cut a 12 inch 78rpm record, Careless Love and Just A Closer Walk With Thee (which I still have). We were called Moe Green and his Chicagoans, though considering our allegiance to George Lewis at the time, I can’t imagine where the name came from. At the same time we briefly formed a Skiffle group to enter the Grand Competition at Sale Locarno. We came second. First prize was an engagement for a week at the Ardwick Hippodrome, second prize was zero! My chance of fame gone!

“Sometime in 1957 I dared to venture from Manchester to Stockport, to the Portwood Liberal Club to hear the Dallas Jazz Band. Their drummer was more interested in his girl-friend than the music, so l got to sit-in for most of the second half. A few weeks later I became their regular drummer. At this point I would like to thank Geoff Wilde (trumpet) for introducing me to bitter beer. Thanks, Geoff! The leader was Tony Foulkes who now leads the Harlem Hot Stompers. One Wednesday night we were playing our little hearts out at the Bodega in Manchester, when who should walk in but Bill Brennan and Dizzy Burton, manager and leader respectively of the local Jazz Aces. At the end of the session they approached me about joining the band. The Jazz Aces were one of the top bands in town. They had recorded for Esquire Records! Needless to say, I jumped at the chance and stayed with them for the next two years, appearing on an Esquire LP myself. Their pianist was the late John G. Featherstone, who was a friend of the redoubtable George H. Buck in New Orleans. Because of this, I and such stalwarts as Mart Rodger, Tony Smith and Roy Bower, got to record ‘Feelin’ the Spirit the first recording of English jazzmen for the GHB label. Apparently it impressed a lot of people in the Big Easy. At this time I was playing with the Tony Smith jazzmen and we did regular gigs at The Cavern in Liverpool. The interval band was some group called The Beatles. We never stopped to listen, as we were rushing out to the pub, but they never struck us as anything more than your usual Rock band!

“In 1962, my wife and I took the plunge and moved down to London. I had already auditioned for the Monty Sunshine band but was told I was too modern!  I joined the Geoff Wilkins Diplomats. We did numerous society gigs on the South coast. These were usually held in big marquees with parquet flooring, chandeliers, and hot and cold running champagne. On one occasion the hostess asked us what we would like to drink, and on being told they didn’t have any beer(?), we said whisky. Shortly, a waiter appeared with six bottles. One for each member of the band! Oops! We played very enthusiastically and I felt great until I walked out into the fresh air at the finish. The next thing I remember is waking up the next morning in our flat in Lambeth. I had driven up from Sussex with the bass player steering and me changing gear, and he couldn’t drive. I still shudder to think about it.

“I eventually joined the Back ‘o’ Town Syncopators, with Johnny Tucker (trumpet), who now plays for The Temperance Seven. We went down very well in Switzerland thanks to the tuba played by Mike Kingston. He went on to record Winchester Cathedral, which became a hit in the charts with the New Vaudeville Band.

“In 1966, my wife and I decided to move back up North, where the grass is sootier. I got a job with the Zenith Six, with the late Keith Pendlebury and Maurice handling the vocals. Their drummer, Eric Pizey, had been tragically killed on the way to a gig, and I took his place. This was a fine band, with Pete Brown on trumpet. A highlight of this period was my accompanying Ben Webster at The 43 Club. I remember one night sitting until early hours listening to Ben talk about the old days and the musicians he had played with. Just about everybody! Then came the Red River Jazzmen led by Tony Iddon (clarinet), Alan Dent (now with Mart Rodger Manchester Jazz), Dave Mott and the late, great, Mick Knowles.

“In the late 60s the Red River Jazzmen were playing our regular gig in Stockport. Half-way through a number I spotted someone enter the back of the room. I called to Alan Dent, our trumpet player, who had just finished his solo.

‘Guess who just came in?’ : ‘Who?’ : ‘Maynard Ferguson!’ : ----- off!’ : ‘Take a look.’ : ‘Oh, my God!’

“Maynard came and sat in with the rhythm section. He played Maria from ‘West Side Story For several moments after he had finished there was utter silence throughout the pub. Then all the non-jazzers from the other rooms came running in. ‘Who was that?’ they wanted to know. Then the rest of the band joined us and we played Jazz Me Blues. It felt pretty surreal playing Traditional jazz with an ex-Stan Kenton musician, but he fitted in well and I am sure we gained a few converts that night! Later, we did a broadcast for ‘BBC Jazz Club', and even 37 years later, there are very few bands that could better it, in my opinion. A helluva band!

“In the 1970s I drifted into club work, mainly with trios, and in the 80s I became a long-distance truck driver. Roaming the highways and byways of the UK, France and Ireland left little time for jazz and I virtually lost touch with the jazz scene. An oasis in the jazz desert was a holiday we took in New Orleans. I sat-in with a group at Fritzel’s Pub on Bourbon Street, and played one afternoon with a band at the French Market in 100 degrees heat! Of course, we visited the Old Mint and the Jazz Museum, where the sight of Louis’ first cornet actually reduced me to tears. Silly old bugger! Came the Millennium and I had just turned sixty. I thought, sod it, jazz was calling me back and she seemed annoyed that I had left her for so long. I packed the job in and began finding my way back onto the scene.

“Now I am back with the Red River Jazzmen, still led by Tony Iddon, and with jazzers like Doug Whaley and Brian Smith. Unfortunately, I yet again took the place of a deceased drummer Pete Cotterill. I also play in the Howard Allen Band with the likes of Billy Edwards, Howard Murray and Terry Brunt, and so I seem to be back on track at last.

“Here’s to the next 50 years!”      

Moe      

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