November 27, 2012
During his short and troubled life, Dave Tough consistently proved himself to be a masterful drummer, comfortable in a wide range of settings, willing to confront and overcome stylistic revolutions. He always displayed musical, technical and intellectual gifts, that might well have taken him to the top of any artistic pursuit and served him for a generous lifetime. At times, he seemed to have the ambition for this; but he also had disturbing flaws that not only circumscribed his career but also tragically shortened his life.
He was born, David Jarvis Tough, on 26 April 1907, in Oak Park, Illinois. First playing drums while a small child, he was still a Chicago schoolboy when he became, appropriately enough, a member of the Austin High School Gang. Not quite what their name implied, this was a loose gathering of white tyro jazzmen all of whom were fascinated with black jazz musicians whose playing set alight the clubs and speakeasies of 1920s Chicago. Deeply influenced by these musicians, the Gang formulated what became known as Chicago-style jazz and Dave, who early mastered the art of playing subtle and infectiously swinging drums, was a significant member of the group.
In that same decade, Dave visited Europe and also spent time in New York City where he made records under the nominal leadership of other members of the Chicago school, notably Eddie Condon and Red Nichols but by the start of the 1930s, this tiny and frail young man was repeatedly struck by illnesses that more robust individuals might have shrugged off. He thus began the new decade inauspiciously, spending many months inactive through illness.
This was a portent of the future; and he gave himself no help by drinking heavily. By 1935, however, Dave was ready to make a mark in a different area of jazz. Until now, the bulk of his work had been in small groups, but the big bands that would dominate the forthcoming swing era were on the rise. He played first with Tommy Dorsey, then moved swiftly (and often fleetingly) through many bands: Red Norvo, Bunny Berigan, Benny Goodman, back to Tommy Dorsey, then Jimmy Dorsey, Bud Freeman, Jack Teagarden, Artie Shaw, and others, including depping with Woody Herman.
There were several reasons for his restlessness. Dave insisted on musical perfection: while this was a characteristic shared by some of the leaders for whom he played, it was ignored by others. Added to personal differences, he had an intense dislike for the characterless music demanded by the realities of commercial success that were a sometimes onerous feature of life in the swing era. And there was his own occasionally unstable personality, a characteristic aggravated by his drinking, which was now sometimes excessive. In his private life, he flouted the racial and social taboos of the time by marrying a black dancer. He also found himself often at odds with former musical associates, and sought to establish an alternative career as a writer. He was briefly inducted into the military during World War 2, playing for a short while in the US Navy band directed by Artie Shaw, but was soon discharged on medical grounds.
It was shortly after his discharge that Dave made his greatest impact on the jazz world when he joined Woody Herman. As the records of Herman’s First Herd were played around the world, fans of big band jazz became aware that for all his physical frailty, tiny Dave Tough was a powerful giant among drummers. Yet, despite his undoubted playing skills, Dave had serious doubts about his suitability for bop.
It certainly didn’t help that his drinking habit had by now became uncontrollable. Observers at the time remarked upon the combination of his discomfort with his role in the changing jazz scene and a deterioration in his physical and mental state, and how it led inexorably to fits. Sometimes, and deeply disturbing to fellow musicians and audiences alike, these fits occurred on the bandstand.
Many of the people who knew him, did their best to help him; not just musician friends but also the writer Leonard Feather and impresario John Hammond Jnr. But Dave would not be helped; portents of disaster had shadowed his entire professional life, and finally they came to pass. Exactly what happened one winter night can never be known. He appears to have fallen in the street while walking home from a gig. Maybe he had another fit; perhaps he was drunk; or he might simply have slipped or stumbled in the dark. Whatever the cause, he fell, fractured his skull, and died from the injury on 9 December 1948 in Newark, New Jersey. For three days, his body lay in the morgue unclaimed, indeed unrecognized.
Whether playing in the small Chicago-style groups of which he was a charter member, or in any of the big bands to which he brought uncommon fluidity, Dave consistently demonstrated his subtle talents.
It was with Woody Herman, however, that he reached the apogee of his brief but shining career. In that band Dave Tough exceeded even his own high standards, urging along one of the finest of the Swing Era’s jazz orchestras with sizzling enthusiasm, flair and irresistible swing that was rarely equaled and almost never surpassed.
August 20, 2012
A master of the art of jazz drumming, Zutty Singleton played with a springy, joyous beat, usually displaying more flexibility than his often more stately contemporaries. Even Baby Dodds, generally regarded as the finest of New Orleans drummers, rarely played with Zutty’s sprightly grace.
He was born Arthur James Singleton in Bunkie, Louisiana, on 14 May 1898. Zutty’s nickname was bestowed upon him while still a babe-in-arms, the name reflecting the happy countenance he retained throughout his life. Playing drums from a very early age, he worked professionally for the first time in his mid-teens. After military service during World War 1, he played drums with numerous bands in New Orleans, including those of Oscar ‘Papa’ Celestin, ‘Big Eye’ Louis Nelson and Luis Russell, before joining the educational hothouse that was Fate Marable’s riverboat band.
The riverboat experience spread Zutty’s reputation to St. Louis where he played in Charlie Creath’s band and married Charlie’s sister, pianist Marge Creath. In Chicago he drummed with headlining leaders such as Doc Cooke, Dave Peyton and Jimmie Noone, before teaming up with Louis Armstrong and Earl Hines. Among the most important jazz recordings ever made are his late 1920s sessions with Louis Armstrong’s Savoy Ballroom small band.
New York beckoned and there Zutty played with Carroll Dickerson’s top flight band and freelanced throughout the 1930s. He played on numerous recording sessions, including dates with Sidney Bechet, Roy Eldridge and Lionel Hampton. In the early 1940s, Zutty frequently led his own band, and also backed frontline artists, among whom were such disparate figures as bluesman T-Bone Walker and proto-bopper Charlie Parker. He worked on radio and in films, appearing on-screen in Stormy Weather (1943) and New Orleans (1946).
Unhappy that he was not invited to join the all-star band formed to back Armstrong in the mid-1940s, Zutty remained active, working with many jazzmen, including Eddie Condon, Joe Marsala and Wingy Manone.
Early in the 1950s, Zutty spent time in Europe in bands led by Mezz Mezzrow, Bill Coleman, Hot Lips Page and Lillian Armstrong. During the rest of the 1950s and on through the 1960s, Zutty worked mostly in New York, which is where he had made his home. Towards the end of the 1960s, he appeared in the remarkable French documentary film, L’Aventure Du Jazz (1969), playing unaccompanied drum solos. The soundtrack of this film was released on a double LP, but I think not yet on CD; similarly, I believe that the film has yet to become available on DVD.
Zutty’s playing career ended following a stroke in 1970 and he lived out his life in New York with Marge. Widely admired and regarded as a father figure to the city’s jazz community, he died there on 14 July 1975.
The buoyancy Zutty brought to his playing ensured that any session on which he played swung mightily. An early champion of wire brushes and a distinctive user of the sock cymbal, together with other ear-catching effects, placed him well ahead of his time as a jazz drummer. A wide-ranging compilation of Zutty’s recordings over the years can be heard on a two-volume set issued by Big Bill Bissonnette on his Jazz Crusade label.
A gifted soloist, Zutty would sometimes follow the penchant of New Orleans drummers for starting a solo playing the melodic line of the number before creating rhythmic variations. A memorable example of his skill as a drum soloist is the unaccompanied Drum Face on a Mezzrow date in Paris in 1951 (released on a Jazz Legacy LP); other fine examples are heard on sessions recorded for Fat Cat’s Jazz, notably the LP, Zutty And The Clarinet Kings. These records show him to be witty, inventive, always swinging, and offering much to be admired and emulated by later generations of jazz drummers.