Welk Wars II: Can't Forget the Motor City

Milt Bernhart didn't talk much. The former president of the Big Band Academy preferred to let his trombone speak for him. But Sheila Tracy managed to coax an anecdote out of Milt some years ago and will present actual sound of the encounter on her "Swingtime" webcast this Sunday. The program airs from 4:00-6:00 p.m. Eastern, 1:00-3:00 p.m. Pacific, and Sheila says your opportunity to hear Milt in his own voice will occur about 25 minutes into the second hour. "Swingtime" can be found at www.purejazzradio.com; click the "Listen Live" link at the top of the page.

This rare audio gem consists of the reticent Bernhart discussing the one occasion on which he performed with Duke Ellington. Duke was hired to write the score for the Frank Sinatra crime thriller, "Assault on a Queen," and a few L.A. studio musicians were brought in to augment the Ellington orchestra. Usually tongue-tied, Bernhart comes out of his shell, describing the thrill of working alongside his Ellington idols and shedding light on Duke's unorthodox method of composing for film.

Gratitude goes to Sheila for helping Milt overcome his fear of speaking into a microphone.

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Another reader weighs in on the "Welk Wars" controversy:

"A note about the big bands and dancing. 

I grew up in Detroit, where my dad owned a beer garden/dance hall. It had a large dance floor and our customers came to both drink and dance. We were not alone in offering dancing as an attraction, since dancing was held wherever people gathered: ballrooms, churches, picnics, parties and parks.

Movie musicals gave the public more dancing, especially when Fred Astaire broke out with Ginger Rogers in 1933's 'Flying Down to Rio.' Suddenly, dance schools were flourishing. The Arthur Murray chain grew to more than 650 studios, teaching close to 200,000 lessons weekly. Other chains and independent studios did well, too. Schools offered dance contracts predicated on teacher/student dance parties held at upscale hotels and country clubs.

A lawsuit citing the Sherman Anti-Trust Act started the downfall of dance studios. When such dance contracts could no longer be sold, schools closed and ballrooms were shuttered. Without formal instruction, the younger generation didn't learn how to dance and it slowly turned to rock 'n' roll, where no dancing skill is required.

While it's true that WWII policies on recording and the lack of shellac prompted record labels to shift focus onto singers, if not for dancers there never would have been a Stan Kenton, a Woody Herman, a Glenn Miller or a Harry James. All got their starts in dance bands.

My knowledge comes from having lived it: experience as an Arthur Murray teacher, a performer in Las Vegas and as a current member of various dance societies. Concerts without dancing cannot sustain themselves; a couple of gigs a year doesn't do it. But check out Jitterbug conventions. They're the rage. If big bands come back to any degree, it'll be the kids Jitterbugging at these gatherings who make it happen."

Josephine Powell

West Hollywood, Calif.

Josephine Powell is author of "Tito Puente: When the Drums are Dreaming," published in 2007 by AuthorHouse.

Thanks, Josie. And if still more opinions are percolating out there, we'll be happy to continue facilitating the debate. Send us your thoughts!

Welk Wars

Bernie Farmer's Apr. 18 comments have triggered further opinion:

"If big bands had stayed where Bernie would like them to have stayed, there would be no big bands today. Sorry, but playing moldy fig music for old folks and maybe a few young swing dancers is not moving the music forward.

Now that I've gotten your attention by purposely being negative, let me explain what I mean.

I love playing for dances, but dancing isn't the only reason for bands to exist. There are literally dozens of wonderful big bands playing for good-sized audiences and not trying to sound like Lawrence Welk, Glenn Miller or Kay Kyser. And not playing primarily for dancing.

Musicians didn't kill the big band era; economics did. Among other factors, record labels wanted to record singers with their own studio orchestras instead of traveling big bands and the musicians' union struck against radio. Interestingly, the bands that did survive into the 1960s and beyond were jazz-oriented, not dance bands. Stan Kenton, Woody Herman, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Buddy Rich and Maynard Ferguson kept traveling pretty much until they passed away. And the Herman, Basie and Ellington bands continued even after the deaths of their namesakes.

Yes, the Miller band is still out there, as is the Harry James orchestra -- another whose namesake never quit the road -- but now as then, lots of the James band's gigs are sit-down concerts.

I lead the Stan Kenton Alumni Band and we get good crowds for all our concerts. We're also one of the few bands that still gets on a bus and travels like the old days. Another example of a successful contemporary band that doesn't play dances is Gordon Goodwin's Big Phat Band.

So Bernie, your blanket comment about bands like Kenton and Basie not drawing is just not true. As for your inability to get people out on the dance floor, maybe you aren't executing those arrangements correctly. When the Kenton Alumni Band plays a dance once in a while, folks don't hesitate to show their moves. After all, there are many ways of swinging!"

Mike Vax
www.mikevax.net

Trumpeter Mike Vax has performed with artists ranging from Gene Krupa and Clark Terry to The Four Freshmen and The Beverly Hills Unlisted Jazz Band.

I propose that Bernie and Mike meet in a steel cage match. In the spirit of old-school professional wrestling, loser leaves town.

Steppin' Out

While the Big Band Reunion remains on hiatus, two of our friendly competitors are thrusting forward with events in the next few weeks:



For further details, go to www.asmac.org and click "Golden Score Award." By the way, I am as flattered to have been named to the Honorary Event Committee as I am undeserving of the honor. I can picture people looking over the committee list on the night of the show, coming to my name and finding it hard not to blurt out, "Who??"

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For more information about the ELLA, visit www.singers.org, then click the "News & Events" link.

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We recently presented here a YouTube clip from "The Lawrence Welk Show." That clip generated the following response:

"Regarding the mention of Lawrence Welk in your post of Mar. 14 ... 

When our band plays Welk charts, the dance floor fills. The same holds true for Glenn Miller and Kay Kyser. When we play Stan Kenton charts, the dance floor is empty. Ditto for Duke Ellington.

I once asked Garry Stevens, the late band singer, why big band music lost its popularity. His answer: 'The musicians killed the big bands. They started playing music for themselves and not the audience.'

Our band routinely performs to full houses. And try playing a Kay Kyser chart; Kenton is easier."

Bernie Farmer

The Fabulous Swing Kings

Chico, Calif.

Of course, Kenton and Ellington purposely wrote music for listening, not dancing. Dancers walking back to their seats might simply confirm to Stan and Duke that their intentions had succeeded.

But Bernie and Garry make a provocative argument. Bernie consented to the publication of his comments in the hope of stimulating healthy discussion among readers. Or even unhealthy discussion. What do you think?

Mills of the Gods

Jackie Mills -- big band and jazz drummer, producer and recording studio entrepreneur -- passed away on Mar. 22. He was 88 years old.

A professional from his mid-teens, Jackie played drums in the 1940s for leaders such as Charlie Barnet, Dizzy Gillespie, Benny Goodman and Boyd Raeburn. In the '50s, he performed with Tommy Dorsey and Harry James. As part of the National Association of Music Merchants' Oral History Program, Jackie sat down to tell his story on camera only three months before his death. Click the link to see Jackie discussing his experiences with TD and HJ:

www.namm.org/library/oral-history/jackie-mills

Settling in Hollywood, Jackie became rehearsal drummer for Fred Astaire. When Astaire started his own record label, Choreo, he asked Jackie to head up day-to-day operations. This launched Jackie into a second career as a record producer. Choreo, which for legal reasons later changed its name to Ava Records, specialized in sophisticated pop and jazz, with a roster ranging from Carol Lawrence to Elmer Bernstein to the Pete Jolly Trio. But marvelous albums didn't translate into success on the charts and Ava Records was quietly put to sleep in 1965.

Jackie, however, was just beginning as a producer. He proved his adaptability by helming sessions for top artists of the younger generation, including Janis Joplin, Bobby Sherman and Davy Jones. And in 1969, Jackie purchased a tiny, two-room recording studio at the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and Larrabee Street in West Hollywood. Larrabee Sound Studios quickly became one of L.A.'s busiest, capitalizing on the disco explosion of the '70s and eventually growing to seven rooms spread over 30,000 square feet in three locations.

My awareness of Jackie Mills came as a teenager when I saw his name in the closing credits of episodes of "The Brady Bunch" in which the Brady kids sang. Jackie produced those recordings and the LPs that followed. "It's a Sunshine Day," "We Can Make the World a Whole Lot Brighter," "Time to Change," you've probably heard them. When I first met Jackie a few years later, I couldn't wait to ask him about the Brady Bunch stuff, though I knew even then that those tracks were hardly what he would want to be remembered for:



But Jackie couldn't have been more gracious. He told me a couple of behind-the-scenes tidbits about the Brady records, such as the fact that only one of the six kids (Maureen McCormick) could actually carry a tune, necessitating the hiring of studio singers to "enhance" the sound.

Jackie, you made our world a whole lot brighter. I think I'll go for a walk outside now ...

The Bunny Trail

On Jan. 31, we mentioned "Swingtime," the weekend webcast presented by English broadcaster Sheila Tracy. If your Easter plans permit, check out today's program from 4:00-6:00 p.m. Eastern, 1:00-3:00 p.m. Pacific.

In the second hour, Sheila will feature conversation and music by some well-known names associated with the Big Band Academy. Butch Stone kicks things off, talking about life on the road and segueing into "A Good Man Is Hard to Find." Then you'll hear Van Alexander discuss how he got paid for that very arrangement of "A Good Man" half a century after writing it. Sheila concludes by playing a few tracks from, among others, Billy May and vocalist Sue Raney.

"Swingtime" can be heard by going to www.purejazzradio.com and clicking the "Listen Live" link at the top of the page.

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Longtime L.A. classical radio announcer Tom Dixon passed away three weeks ago. His obituary in the Los Angeles Times contained a quote made by Tom in 1996 on the occasion of his 50th anniversary as a classical host:

"By having a knowledge of classical music, I fell into a format that never changes," he said. "If I had been a red-hot disc jockey for a trend -- big bands or whatever -- I would have been gone. Classical music, from the time I started at KFAC in 1946, is the same commodity."

Hard words for a lover of big bands to read.

But those red-hot big band disc jockeys were something, weren't they?

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So Butler University, improbably, is going to play for the NCAA men's basketball title. The Four Freshmen formed in the halls of Butler's music conservatory and there can't be any doubt about where Bob Flanigan will be Monday night. Go Bulldogs!