"Big bands" had a tiny niche when I was a kid and such bands had
been "updated" for our particular tastes. I'm thinking of Maynard
Ferguson. Maynard had the traditional instruments but there were strong
rock and disco elements.
Maynard's real first name (what he used on legal documents) was "Walter." Glenn Miller's real first name was "Alton."
Maynard once sang an ode to Miller's swing style. Among the words:
"You can have technique, good tone, and play with lots of spirit. If you
can't swing, it just don't mean a thing so no one here wants to hear
it."
I also liked the song because it rhymed "beard" with "weird."
Miller's all-American story begins with his birth on a farm in
Clarinda, Iowa. He bought his first trombone with money he made milking
cows. He attended high school in Fort Morgan, Colorado, and discovered
"big band music" as a particular area of interest as a senior.
He graduated in 1921 with drive to develop as a musician.
But driven he wasn't, when it came to college, as he failed three
of five classes one semester at the U of Colorado in Boulder. Maynard as
I recall had no time for "book learnin' " either.
These guys could inspire and entertain college students. Ironically
their own development owed nothing to college. As an Internet
triumphalist I say "hats off."
Miller had a rise with the expected bumps in the road and spells of
discouragement. He consulted with Benny Goodman at one of those low
stages and the clarinetist said "You just stay with it."
The biopic about Miller, "The Glenn Miller Story," shows some of that dues-paying - vehicles stuck in the snow etc.
I assume the movie used some creative license here and there, i.e.
embellishments. But I assume it's true that Miller's turnaround came
when he found that unique "sound" deemed so important.
I do assume it's an embellishment where the lead trumpet player
bumps his horn, injures his lip and has to sit out, thus setting the
stage for that "special sound" by accident. But hey, who knows?
The movie shows Miller scrambling. Presto! Let's use a clarinet for
the lead line. One can just imagine ol' Alton saying "I think I've got
it!"
When you think of the Miller band you probably think of saxophones,
trumpets and trombones. Sure those instruments were at the heart. But
follow the melody and it's not a sax standing out. Imagine "Moonlight
Serenade." Yes, it's that clarinet! A tenor sax would hold the same
note, and the three other saxes harmonized within a single octave.
Not only was the clarinet distinctive, so was the fellow who played
it under Miller: Wilbur Schwartz. He produced a richness that was hard
to duplicate in later incarnations of the band.
I'm a trumpet player so I might be inclined to say "all clarinet players sound alike." But apparently not so with Mr. Schwartz.
As for injuring your lip because of bumping your horn, that never once happened to me.
I had the pleasure of playing in bands that performed Miller "charts," as us musicians call them. You know them as "tunes."
I played in a ten-piece band that had "In the Mood" and "A String
of Pearls" in its repertoire. Surely these tunes were on a lot of those
juke boxes.
"Chattanooga Choo Choo" was performed in glorious music video style
- it takes a back seat to no other - in the 1941 movie "Sun Valley
Serenade" (with Milton Berle). Miller and his band returned to the big
screen in 1942 in "Orchestra Wives" (with Jackie Gleason).
Miller had a health issue that - I kid you not - could make
laughing uncomfortable. So, working with Gleason had its issues, it has
been reported.
The war stood in the way of a third planned movie: "Blind Date." How I wish that movie had been made.
I played my "ax" (trumpet) in a band for the earliest years of the
UMM Jazz Festival. We were the "West Central All-Stars," adults
who weren't necessarily connected to UMM. We played "In the Mood."
I remember the bass player in "Sun Valley Serenade" really "jiving"
on "In the Mood," in a way that must have seemed edgy at the time, almost
like he was on drugs, although I'm not asserting he was.
Didn't drummer Gene Krupa seem like he was always on drugs? Or was
this musicians' license to just act a little weird (with or without a
"beard")?
"Chattanooga Choo Choo" was so well-known, the name was fodder for a
little gag in "Young Frankenstein." This movie appealed to boomer
tastes 100 per cent in the '70s. In other words it was irreverent.
Remember Gene Wilder shouting out the train window, "Pardon me boy, is
this the Transylvania station?"
The boy answers the question right out of the song. It was nice
homage to an entertainment era, Miller's, really not so remote in time.
But the music of Miller and Goodman surely sounded ancient to the
boomers of the early and mid 1970s.
That's kind of sad, really, the way such beautiful and well-crafted sounds gave way to the likes of Jefferson Airplane.
Maynard Ferguson, it should be noted, was able to drift back to his
jazz roots in his final years to no objection from his long-time fans.
Maynard initially got a grip on boomers with a structured pop approach.
Who can explain shifts in popular music tastes?
"Chattanooga Choo Choo" was actually the first-ever gold record.
And it had more than instrumentalists. Singing was done by the
Modernaires whose harmony was sweet.
Miller sought commercial success which meant critics weren't going
to be completely on board. Miller himself fed the skeptics by coming
right out and saying "I don't want a jazz band."
Miller himself was right at home playing jazz. "The Glenn Miller
Story" has him playing alongside Louis Armstrong in a nightclub. But he
guided his own band toward extremely well-honed and precise renditions
of appealing melodies. The solos come off like they were written down on paper (like the
trumpet on "A String of Pearls").
The band rehearsed like slaves. Truly Miller wanted a polished sound - no problem with that. And he had no problem selling records.
The band rehearsed like slaves. Truly Miller wanted a polished sound - no problem with that. And he had no problem selling records.
The polished sound, some critics felt, reduced the feeling. Count
Basie may have played "hot jazz" but this was not Miller's aim.
(I remember Maynard at the St. Prom Ballroom, after the house
announcer reminded of an upcoming appearance by "Basie," saying in
a put-on dismissive way, "Remember, that's Count Basie." MF had a sense
of humor.)
Miller's wife Helen (Burger) was his college sweetheart. This was one college "class" he surely mastered.
His all-American story ended in WWII with his disappearance
into the mist, embarking across the English Channel with the war still
hot.
What would have happened had he lived? How would he have transitioned from the big band era? We can only guess.
But Miller was a shrewd and industrious man who surely would have landed on his feet. What a story.
Glenn Miller RIP.
Click on the permalink below to read a post I wrote about the mystery of Glenn Miller's death. This post is on my companion website, "Morris of Course."
Click on the permalink below to read a post I wrote about the mystery of Glenn Miller's death. This post is on my companion website, "Morris of Course."
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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