February 28, 2015
I have long taken an interest in jazz drumming, an interest that over the years has led me to write articles for magazines and on-line sites on several drummers. Among those featured on this site are Chick Webb, Dave Tough, Sonny Greer (see below), Zutty Singleton, and Gene Krupa. Also, in 1987, my book, Gene Krupa: His Life and Times, was published and although now out of print this is available to eager searchers among the second-hand stacks at Amazon. Regrettably, over the years it was only rarely that I became aware of women drummers in jazz. Among the first of the few who caught my ear were Pauline Braddy, whose playing with The International Sweethearts of Rhythm was outstanding, Dotty Dodgion, who played briefly with Benny Goodman and hence came to my attention when I was writing a book on the King of Swing, and Viola Smith, who had a long and varied career, was known as the “female Gene Krupa”, and is still alive and kicking at over 100. In recent years I have greatly admired the playing of Cindy Blackman, Terri Lyne Carrington and Sherrie Maricle, reviewing albums by the last named on this site and in Jazz Journal. These musicians and a few others apart, this was pretty much the sum of my knowledge. Not surprisingly, therefore, I was intrigued to see advance publicity for a book devoted entirely to female drummers and hoped to review it for JJ but another contributor beat me to it. So, I bought a copy from Amazon and what a delight it has been to read it.
Women Drummers: A History from Rock and Jazz to Blues and Country by Angela Smith (Rowman and Littlefield ISBN 978-0-8108-8834-0)
As Angela Smith’s subtitle makes clear, this work is not restricted to jazz; far from it in fact, but this wide-ranging scope is by no means an impediment to anyone with interest in any of the musical fields covered. It will also appeal to those interested specifically in the difficult role women have in the world of popular music, a role that while easier today than it was several decades ago, is still fraught with the all-too familiar prejudices of a male-dominated business.
Broadly, Smith takes a chronological approach, which means for the jazz fan the earlier and later chapters hold most obvious interest, but I think that anyone choosing to skip past the other genres will not only do the author a disservice but will also miss a great deal that is interesting and revelatory, which it certainly was for me. To a considerable extent, Smith has drawn upon interviews with drummers, some previously published in magazines and books but many personally conducted by herself. These direct sources bring to life the many struggles and occasional triumphs of these musicians and the resulting volume will provide a valuable future resource for music historians. They might also have the effect of sending readers scurrying off to find CDs (all too often deleted) of these women.
To digress for a moment: another long-ago book of mine (written with Mike Pinfold) was The Jazz Singers: from Ragtime to the New Wave (1986). Because no one before had tried to do what we did there, we covered a lot of ground, too much perhaps, and in a later book, Singing Jazz: the Singers and Their Styles (1997), we narrowed the scope and hence were able to examine the subject in greater detail. To some extent, the ground covered in Angela Smith’s book is similarly encyclopedic and I find myself hoping that she might be considering another book on this topic in which she can narrow the scope and get right inside individual lives and careers and in particular examine and explain stylistic differences, something that will be especially interesting when comparing and contrasting drummers from different genres. If the author does take another look at the subject, I’ll certainly buy that book as well. In the meantime, Women Drummers is an admirable work, one that is an important reference book and is also worthy of a place on the shelf of anyone interested in this fascinating corner of the world of music that hitherto has been only rarely, if ever, illuminated.
Angela Smith’s book can be bought from walk-in and on-line stores, which includes Amazon.
Sonny Greer – the Duke’s man
Maybe it’s just me and my occasional mistaken perceptions, but when reading about the glories of the Duke Ellington orchestras, and especially those he led from the late 1920s through to the end of the 1940s, I am struck by a notable omission. Although jazz historians and critics pay well-deserved attention to many of the fine instrumentalists, among them Johnny Hodges, Rex Stewart, Harry Carney, Lawrence Brown, Ray Nance, Barney Bigard, Cootie Williams and Ben Webster, and also arranger Billy Strayhorn, there are far fewer words written about the long-serving drummer Sonny Greer. If I am right in regarding him as a forgotten man, it prompts the question: Why?
Photographs of the band show him as a prominent and flamboyant figure, sitting high up on the bandstand surrounded not only by the regular drums and cymbals that every big band drummer had, but also with a spectacular array of other percussion instruments, including gleaming bells, gongs, timpani and xylophone. For all the quantity of instruments, however, Greer’s aural contribution was muted; he never thundered, preferring to add color to the Ellington band’s sound and to supply a pulse that was felt rather than heard. He was not a soloist, as were so many other musicians in the band, and while seeing him live at dance-halls was doubtless memorable, sometimes on record he was barely audible. Only an assumption, I know, but I somehow doubt that this was the fault of the recording engineers. Listening to the Ellington band on albums such as the outstanding At Fargo, 1940 Live or The Blanton-Webster Band, it quickly becomes apparent that while every man in the band was individually swinging, Greer was largely responsible for creating and maintaining the relentless sense of understated propulsion the band brought to its performances.
So, who was Sonny Greer? He was born William Alexander Greer on 13 December 1895 (the year is sometimes questioned), in Long Branch, New Jersey. He played locally for a few years but by 1919 he had moved to Washington, DC, where he met Duke Ellington, the two men playing together in both Washington and New York City. As Ellington settled into his role as bandleader, so the drummer became an integral part of the music being created. Stylistically, Greer was subtle and relaxed, the latter quality sometimes, it must be said, leading to an unfortunately casual attitude toward keeping time. Most often, though, his style, especially when using brushes, was ideally suited to the band’s seemingly effortless swing and he contributed much to the tonal palette that Ellington needed in order to realize his compositions. Fortunately, any timekeeping lapses were underpinned in the earliest years by guitarist Freddie Guy (another invaluable and largely unsung figure) and a little later on by the extraordinary bassist Jimmy Blanton but the drummer played his own part in generating the easy, loping swing that made the band so distinctive.
Only rarely during the 1930s and 1940s did Sonny Greer work outside the aegis of Ellington. Apart from a few small group sessions led by other Ellingtonians, and an appearance on one of Lionel Hampton’s famous Victor recording sessions, on which he was again in Ellingtonian company, his early career was spent inside the Ellington orchestra. By the end of the 1940s, however, Greer had outstayed the welcome of even Ellington, who tolerated more indiscretions from his sidemen than almost any of his fellow bandleaders of the era. Greer never shook off the smooth-talking, sharp-dressing, hard-drinking persona that had been a part of him from the beginning when he had often kept himself in funds by moonlighting as a pool hustler. Most of that persona was not detrimental to his playing, but the drinking was. Gradually, his on-stage behavior deteriorated and in 1951 Ellington was forced to ask him to leave the band.
Thereafter, Greer freelanced, recording with other ex-Ellingtonians such as Johnny Hodges and Tyree Glenn and also with contemporaries like Henry ‛Red’ Allen and J.C. Higginbotham. In the late 1960s and 1970s Greer led his own groups, usually a trio, and he also appeared at concerts celebrating Ellington where he consistently proved that he was never more at ease than when playing his old boss’s music. Despite the lifestyle he chose, he lived a long life, eventually dying in New York City on 23 March 1982.
For all his perceived failings as a drummer, in retrospect it is apparent that Greer was just right for Ellington for the era in which he occupied the drum chair. As the years passed other fine drummers came into Ellington’s band, notably Louie Bellson and Sam Woodyard. The former of these musicians, while an exceptional player, was the least Ellingtonian of all the drummers who played in the band. Woodyard was ideal for later Ellington, bringing to the band elements of Greer’s subtlety and Bellson’s dramatic power. But for the early Ellington bands, especially those that played during the late 1930s and early 1940s, it is clear that Sonny Greer was the perfect drummer. With anyone else, the band would not have sounded the same and if it had not sounded the same then it would not have been what it was – the greatest jazz orchestra of its time.
May 3, 2012
I learned something about how jazz history is influenced by blood lines when, in the late 1990s, I was in San Antonio, Texas. One evening, looking for somewhere to eat, I found myself following the tourist trail along the city’s Riverwalk. Hearing the music of a promising-sounding band, I went into a restaurant where a quintet was playing post-bop jazz as a warm-up to the evening’s (non-jazz) headliner. All the instrumentalists in this band were good, but the alto saxophonist was exceptional. After listening to this remarkable player for an hour, I had to tell him how much I had enjoyed the evening. I asked his name; he was David Caceres. I asked if he was related to Ernie Caceres; he said that Ernie was his great-uncle. I knew then that he must be the grandson of Emilio Caceres. From his reaction, it was clear that David was pleased at this recognition of the family name; although this was not uncommon in San Antonio. But I think that he was happily surprised that someone with my accent, which clearly came from a few thousand miles away across an ocean, had spotted the family connection.
Jazz in the blood …
Jazz is often said to be in the blood. Although usually not to be taken literally, there are numerous instances where blood links tie musicians together. When families adorn the pages of jazz history, it is possible that the most numerous are pairs of brothers. There are also larger families, the Jones, Heath, Brunies, Goodman and Teagarden brothers come readily to mind. Bridging a generation, there are several father-son pairs, and in some cases where the pair is mother and son. Then there are sisters, and occasions where the generation bridge goes from mother or father to daughter.
Ernie Caceres …
In the case of the Caceres family from Texas, the bridge is a little out of the ordinary. First in line, in jazz terms, came Ernie Caceres. He was born Ernesto Caceres in Rockport, Texas, on 22 November 1911. Although he started out as a professional guitarist before turning to reed instruments, he became highly skilled on several instruments. His first professional engagements were in Texas, often in company with his brothers, Emilio, violin, and Pinero, trumpet and piano. It was with Emilio’s band that he first toured, playing in various parts of the country, including Detroit and New York City.From the late 1930s, he played in bands led by Bobby Hackett, Jack Teagarden, Bob Zurke, Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Woody Herman, Sidney Bechet, Eddie Condon and Billy Butterfield, making in all several hundred appearances on record. Although he played clarinet, alto and tenor saxophones with these bands, it was on baritone saxophone that he became best known. Although rooted in big band swing and Dixieland, he was comfortable in almost any company, something he demonstrated on a 1949 recording date with the Metronome All Stars, on which he backed Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, Fats Navarro, and Charlie Parker.
Emilio Caceres …
Older than Ernie, Emilio Caceres was also born in Texas, in his case in Corpus Christi on 24 September 1897, he played violin and led a swing band that played throughout the Southwest. It was his trio, however, that gained most popularity and considerable critical approval. In the trio with Emilio were his bother Ernie and their cousin, guitarist Johnny Gomez. Thanks to an appearance on Benny Goodman’s Camel Caravan radio show, the trio was very successful but although there was a lot of work for him in New York City, Emilio chose to return to Texas.From a base in San Antonio, he toured with a big band, appeared regularly on radio and made popular records. Although he was a gifted jazz improviser, Emilio opted for a repertoire that mixed contemporary swing style with norteño music, a form highly popular in Mexico and the border states. Sadly, Emilio made only a handful of records but from these it is vividly apparent that he was a hugely gifted musician whose playing can still engender excitement and admiration today.
In the 1960s Ernie Caceres returned to Texas, also settling in San Antonio where he and Emilio recorded in 1969. Ernie was friendly with Jim Cullum Sr and he contributed arrangements for Jim Cullum Jr’s San Antonio-based band. He died there on 10 January 1971; Emilio also died in San Antonio, on 10 February 1980.
Blood ties …
Musical blood linked the Caceres brothers to a cousin, Henry Cuesta (1931-2003), who was for many years featured clarinetist with Lawrence Welk. The blood link continued on down to two grandsons of Emilio.
Of these Anthony Caceres played electric bass from age 17, then switched to acoustic bass. This was at the University of North Texas where in 2003 he earned a degree in Jazz Studies. He also studied with Jeff Bradetich, Lynn Seaton, Mark Egan and Michael Manring.
More recently, maintaining a family connection, he has toured the country and visited Japan with the Glenn Miller Orchestra. Among the many leading names of jazz and pop with whom Anthony has worked are the Four Aces, Ed Soph, Marvin Stamm, Bill Mays, Greg Abate and Carl Fontana.
The other grandson is David Caceres, who plays alto saxophone, soprano saxophone, clarinet and flute. While at Berklee College of Music he also began singing, gradually deciding that this was an area of his musicality he wanted to pursue. From 1989, David worked in New York, quickly building his reputation before joining pianist Paul English’s quartet in Houston. More recently, David has fronted his own quartet, has played with fusion group Stratus, and the funk band TKOh! and has appeared on numerous recording dates.
Since 1995, David’s own name recordings have included Innermost, Trio and Reflections. His most recent release is David Caceres on which he effectively blends his straight-ahead post bop alto saxophone with his relaxed and romantically-inclined singing.
Through the decades and the generations, a deep love for jazz has flowed in the veins of the Caceres family, demonstrating that in the case of these internationally acclaimed jazz musicians, family matters.
… been here and gone!