Thesis on John Patton by Javier Gonzalez
first published on the John Patton My space tribute site
John Patton websiteTHE FOLLOWING IS THE ONLY COMPREHENSIVE AND EXHAUSTIVE BIOGRAPHY DONE ON JOHN PATTON. IT IS A THESIS WRITTEN BY JOHN'S FRIEND JAVIER GONZALEZ. JAVIER DID AN UNBELIEVABLE JOB, WITH MANY PERSONAL INTERVIEWS WITH JOHN, HIS FAMILY, FRIENDS AND MUSICAL ASSOCIATES. JAVIER DID WONDERFUL WORK HERE.
John Eugene Patton was born on July 12, 1935 in Kansas City, Missouri, the fourth of six children to Minerva Elizabeth Moore Patton and Leroy Roscoe Russell Patton. Patton grew up in a musical environment, his mother being a music teacher who played the piano. Like many organists, John Patton first learned to play piano. According to Phyl Garland's liner notes to Patton's Let 'Em Roll LP (Blue Note 84239, 1966), "He more or less drifted into music, turning to the piano where he first picked out Gershwin's time-weary 'Lady Be Good.'" His mother taught him some piano and he was also taught by his grandmother, Bertha Elizabeth Moore, who taught him to play hymns for church. Patton recalls that his grandmother taught him: "[m]ost of the gospel that I know and all of the songs out of the hymn [book].…then my mother opened me up to learning to read lines and spaces and the notes…"[1] Leroy Patton played "a little guitar," eldest brother Leroy, Jr. plays drums and piano, and brother Jesse Maurice also played piano: "…he opened me up to that John Thompson piano book" [a book of scales and exercises]. John Patton began playing piano at the age of eight[2], but in his high school years at Lincoln High (the same high school that was briefly attended by Charlie Parker), he also "got a chance to have some drum lessons." He elaborates: "I pursued that end when I was going to school in the band. I played snare drum and bass drum and stuff like that. You couldn't take the piano out there. I tried to play the trombone, but in my young years, when I was going to school, I had asthma kind of bad…so I couldn't really deal with that…I ended up playing keyboards."[3]
Patton's parents separated in 1946. Patton was closest to younger brother, Jerry (born Gerald William Patton, July 2, 1937). Patton remembers: "We would run off and do all kinds of crazy stuff. When I was 13 or 14, we stole a car and went across the state line to Kansas, which landed me in reform school. Then I joined the scouts [Boy Scouts], straightened out for a while."[4]
An early musical inspiration was his cousin Lemuel Patton, who also played the piano. Lemuel "used to come by the house and show me little things."[5] Among the "little things" Lemuel showed the young John Patton was how to play boogie woogie in the style of Albert Ammons, and at that point he "just couldn't get off of the piano…"[6] Patton commented to Terry Martin in 1986: "You know swinging Kansas City…automatically you'll try to play some blues, and really I've always wanted to play jazz. I'd try to get in the clubs on 12th St…I wasn't old enough…I heard Dinah, Jay McShann, Marvin Patillo, a very good drummer…I went to school with Donald Dean, a drummer who later worked with Les McCann. There were little gigs at school and I was working a bit with my cousin; we went to that Wyatt Earp town…[Dodge City, Kansas]"[7]
That cousin, Rudolph Downing, a singer six years Patton's senior, provided Patton with his first professional experience, playing rhythm and blues, in 1950. The band went through several changes in personnel and name, with Patton and Downing staying at the core. As Downing was the frontman, the name often ended up being simply "the Rudolph Downing Quintet." Patton can not recall specifically where his first gig was, but does recall: "I was really nervous. Rudolph told me what to do. He was a showman."[8] The band would play weekend engagements around Kansas City (Missouri and Kansas) and in towns like Junction City, Kansas; Wichita, Kansas, Topeka, Kansas; Lee Summit, Missouri; and as far north as Omaha, Nebraska. Patton was still attending high school and vocational school (focusing on auto mechanics). The band earned enough of a reputation in the area that they would have posters printed with their picture on it. Referring to this group Patton recalled: "We tried to do the whole thing," including the look of many rhythm and blues artists of the era, "I remember trying to get a process [laughs]…"[9] The band also would wear matching outfits.
In mid-1954, Patton left Kansas City and headed east to Washington, D. C. "When I came out of school, I, well, like everybody, wanted to get out of my hometown."[10] Older brother Jesse was already living in Washington at the time, attending Howard University. Jesse went on to graduate with a law degree from Howard. Originally, that was also to be the plan for John Patton. He recalls: "I was supposed to go there and go to school and ended up working at a service station." Instead of going to school Patton: "…ended up somewhere else [in terms of what he was doing]…working with different musicians in Washington D.C."[11] Among these musicians was a drummer from Gaffney, South Carolina named Ben Dixon (b. December 25, 1934), who would figure prominently in Patton's career for the next decade. Dixon had lived in Washington, D. C. since childhood and appeared on several jazz dates in the late 1950's with Wilbur Ware, Mal Waldron, Ray Draper's Tuba Sounds and Leo Parker.[12] Dixon's main reputation as a drummer is from his work in organ groups. The bulk of his recordings are in that format, and he gigged with Jack McDuff, Larry Young, Groove Holmes, Sonny Phillips, and Shirley Scott among others. As Dixon recalls, "I left [Lloyd Price's band] in '60, fall of '60 and I went with Jack McDuff because at that point I wanted to get away from the big bands [Price had a 14 piece band at that point]. and play with the organ because I felt that I could contribute a lot to, you know, the jazz organ trio style. In fact, when I left Lloyd, I was offered gigs with Basie, Ray Charles, and Duke Ellington."[13] Dixon also gigged at different times with the Herbie Nichols trio that also included Wilbur Ware, Howard McGhee's big band and small combo, Frank Foster's big band and small combo, and later on, with Kenny Dorham and Sonny Rollins. While in college at Central State in Wilberforce, Ohio, Dixon had met and played with Cecil McBee, Gigi Gryce's brother Tom Gryce, and arranger Phil Wright, who arranged for Chess records in the 1960's, including Fontella Bass's hit "Rescue Me."[14] His varied experiences were an influence on Patton.
Of Dixon, Patton said: "Ben Dixon was my mentor…he was a hell of a reader and did a lot of writing [Dixon wrote several tunes on Patton's early Blue Note records Along Came John, Blue John, and Oh Baby!, as well as being a sideman and also penned the answer to Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man," titled "Cantaloupe Woman"]. He liked Max [Roach] for his technical ability and melodic playing, but Philly Joe Jones, who was his idol, for the flair. Ben was always trying to create different beats, he could really swing and was so uninhibited about 2 and 4; he was like the drummers now, he would utilize the sock cymbal and turn the cymbal beat around…just create his stuff. Very few of the musicians I have played with are as great musically and rhythmically."[15] Dixon commented on his own playing, "You take all of those recordings in chronological lockstep, you'll find if you listen to me, listen to what I'm doing, you'll find that there's something different going on along, along, along, along. You know...and a lot of those [recordings], what they emphasized a lot is my high hat, so you didn't hear a lot of the stuff that I was doing on the drums and on the cymbals, but I'd be playing a lot of broken rhythm."[16] And indeed, on George Braith's Laughing Soul in 1966 (his penultimate recording with Patton), Dixon plays different latin rhythms, plays melodically, and shows a more intricate groove than on previous recordings.
Patton echoed Dixon's sentiments of continuing to develop as a musician in the liner notes to his Oh Baby! album in 1965, "I want to go on studying. A musician cannot stand still. The mechanical power of the organ can delude you into projecting strength as opposed to blending it with other instruments. Control is very important and so is direction."[17] As Patton commented to Martin, Dixon also gained a reputation for playing melodic figures on the drums, as Dixon remembered, "Well, I had a reputation for that from Lloyd's band. Because in Lloyd's band, a lot of the melodic breaks I played on the drums, you know, a lot of that came from the fellow writing the arrangements, too, you know. So, all that followed me right along and certain musicians would...well, the older musicians would definitely pick up on it, 'Oh, yeah, man, that Ben Dixon, he plays the melody on the drums.'"[18] Dixon brought many things to his musical relationship with Patton, and their ongoing interaction for several years gave them a bond few musicians get a chance to develop. The development of Dixon's own concept on the drums can be heard in comparing his playing on any Lou Donaldson session, as an example, with his highly creative, and grooving, drumming on George Braith's Laughing Soul. Leroy Williams, a later contributor to Patton's groups, does the same when called for. Marvin Cabell's "Village Lee," from Accent On The Blues, is a case in point.
Eventually, Patton was hired by Rick Henderson. Henderson led the house band at the Howard Theater. The Howard was Washington's equivalent to the Apollo Theater in New York, and a stopping point for all of the major rhythm-and-blues revues traveling the country, as well as other variety acts like Flip Wilson and Pearl Bailey. Patton's rhythm-and-blues experience came in handy in backing groups like the Coasters, and the Drifters, among others, but his time at the Howard also sharpened his sight-reading skills, as there would be sheet music passed out to back up the different and acts and, many times, the music was seen for the first time by the accompanying musicians.[19] This also helped diversify his repertory and musical knowledge, preparing him for the next break in his career, becoming the pianist in singer Lloyd Price's band---not to mention the fact that it earned Patton a reputation in the music scene in Washington D.C. Furthermore, the Howard Theater itself was located on the strip of Washington's 14th Street, which housed several of D.C.'s most happening clubs.
Lloyd Price (b. March 9, 1932 in Kenner, Louisiana)[20] had enjoyed the hit records "Lawdy Miss Clawdy," "Mailman Blues," "Oh, Oh, Oh," and "Restless Heart," in 1952 and 1953 on the Specialty label. "Lawdy Miss Clawdy," originally recorded as an advertisement for a New Orleans radio station in 1952, was a number one hit on the rhythm-and-blues charts[21] and became a sort of signature tune for Price. Price's career was interrupted by a stint in the military in 1954. In the military, Price gained further experience leading a band, which also backed diverse artists like Jimmy Durante, Debbie Reynolds, Terry Moore, Wonder Smith, and the Cover Girls. Though he earned his initial reputation as a rhythm-and-blues singer, Price later recorded jazz standards and pop material. Upon his release from the Army, the former sergeant Price settled in Washington, D. C. where he began to get his music career back on track, first organizing a record label, KRC records, and putting a new band together.[22] In April, 1955[23], Patton recalls: "I met Lloyd Price, who was looking for a piano player. Someone told him I was in town and I had an audition. He asked me to play the introduction to 'Lawdy Miss Clawdy.' I played that and I had the gig." This meeting occurred backstage at the Howard Theater.[24] Joining Price's group was a crucial formative experience in numerous ways for the then-19-year-old Patton. "My first exposure to [playing jazz] standards came in my first stint in Lloyd's band."[25]
Patton met numerous musicians through his association with the Price band. Among them was saxophonist/flutist/composer Harold Vick, who would appear on Patton's first record date as leader in 1963 and several sessions that followed (including Vick's own debut as leader on which Patton appeared--see discography). Vick (born April 3, 1936 in Rocky Mount, North Carolina; died New York City, November 13, 1987)[26] had followed a similar path to Washington, D. C. as Patton, intending to attend Howard University. It was after his graduation with a degree in psychology from Howard in 1958, that Vick dedicated himself to be a full-time musician, eventually landing in the Price band at the same time as Patton and Ben Dixon. Vick had also shared a similar experience to Patton's in the Howard Theater house band before joining Price. Vick left the group in 1960, moved to New York and worked briefly with Howard McGhee and Philly Joe Jones before joining organist Jack McDuff's group. The personnel at the time in McDuff's group included Grant Green[27], who, later, became one of Patton's closest associates, and who, to this day, remains Patton's favorite guitarist.[28] Ben Dixon was also in the group.
In the case of many rhythm-and-blues and pop singers, it was (and still is) rare for there to be mention of the band and for there to be credit to the band (some notable exceptions being James Brown's JB's, or the original Bar-Kays who backed Otis Redding). The liner notes to Price's albums were no exception, except for one record, The Exciting Lloyd Price (1959), which has the first mention of Patton on a record sleeve, in the liner notes. Natt Hale wrote:
The Price band consists of nine hand-picked musicians (including Lloyd), and the leader composes, arranges, and sings (but naturally!) most of their great repertoire. Included in the band is John Patton, Lloyd's pianist, who is virtually the leader's right- hand man. Johnny, now but 23 years old, has been with Price for four years, and is the key man of the entire band. In almost every interview with Price, he usually gives a goodly [sic] share of mention to Patton, extolling his great musicianship and versatility. According to Lloyd, Patton could easily go down as one of the outstanding jazz pianists of all time, were it not for the fact that his work with the Price unit confines his playing to the unique style which has become so identifiable with the group in general.[29]
Patton was eager to learn, and many more-experienced musicians were members of the group. Furthermore, the personnel was constantly shifting. Patton stayed with the band, and his longevity with the group increased his responsibilities within it. Part of Patton's responsibility in the Price band was as a talent scout to find musicians to join the band. Patton recalls, " I tried to find drummers and guitar players and stuff like that. Whenever one would quit, I'd be out there looking...I got Ben [Dixon] the job with Lloyd, you know."[30] Price's band augmented from six, to nine, to ten, to eventually, fourteen pieces. On occasion, last minute hires had to be made to fill in for recently departed players, or players who did not show up to gigs or sessions.
One such occasion occurred the very day that some of the tracks for the aforementioned Exciting Lloyd Price session were recorded; luck also played a part in the situation. Trumpeter Ted Curson, one of many jazzmen to play in the Price band, recalled the scene: "I was standing outside on a street corner practicing my horn and this car drives up. These guys [Patton and Price] get out and ask me if I want to come down and do some recording with their group. I agreed and got in the car right then and went to the studio. Then they asked me if I want to get paid in cash or in royalties from what the record sells. I took the cash, $66 dollars I think, and was on my way. I never actually joined the band. Years later, I found out the record ["Stagger Lee" a number one hit for Price in 1958[31]] had sold 5 million copies! I ran into Lloyd and was joking with him that I should have taken the royalty deal! [laughs]"[32]
Patton also took on a musical responsibility in Price's band. Though the personnel on Price's records is never listed, Patton recalls: "I'm on the majority of Lloyd's records...with ABC-Paramount."[33] Furthermore: "We [Price and Patton] collaborated on a lot of tunes, "Personality," "[Where Were You On Our] Wedding Day?," "Stagger Lee," "Have You Ever Had The Blues?"[34] The collaborations were often un-credited, and at times, Harold Logan, Price's business partner who was not a musician, would receive song-writing credits. "The story was that Lloyd got all the credit, you know...we were just the band."[35] For the record, Patton was credited, along with Logan and Price, for "Where Were You On Our Wedding Day?" Ben Dixon remembers, "John was a great writer in that vein....John Patton knew how to write hits. In fact he wrote one called 'Where Were You On Our Wedding Day?' which sold about 800,000 copies I think."[36] Later on, in 1961, after leaving Price's band, Patton got a job as a staff song-writer for Scepter Records, a label that was oriented towards the pop side of rhythm-and-blues and included such acts as Dionne Warwick and the Shirelles. Again, the royalties went elsewhere as Patton was on salary.[37] Ben Dixon was also involved, "John, myself, [guitarist] Skeeter Betts, and, oh, man...Bobby Bushnell and Jimmy Lewis...they were the bass players, we would be on payroll for Figure Music, for Jack Hook, and...we would do the demos with Pearl Wood and her group. Pearl Wood wrote 'Something Got A Hold Of Me,' and some other hits, you know. We'd do things like that. We'd do things for Scepter Music, because John would play all of Burt Bacharach's piano parts...we used to do the demos. I don't know if I was on a lot of the sessions or not, but we used to do a lot of work for Scepter Records."He also claims that the drummer on the session was not Leroy Williams, but actually Larry "Skeeter" Hancock, a drummer from the west coast who had worked in Bobby Hutcherson's group. Cabell added, "I think Leroy was out of town playing with Barry Harris at the time."[187] Williams remembers otherwise, "I was on that session. I know I was on the date with George Coleman, I remember that. I think it was after Accent On The Blues. Accent On The Blues might have been the first thing I made in New York. I know there's one session I didn't do with John that was in the time I was playing with him. I remember two with Marvin, but I don't remember doing anything else."[188] It is possible that Cabell is confusing the session with the final session Patton recorded for Blue Note, Memphis to New York Spirit, which was recorded on October 2, 1970. Either way, both players are confident that the date on the session with Coleman is wrong. Patton himself was uncertain.
Cabell's memories are very clear about what his first session with Patton was, which he says was his first session ever. The session was Accent on the Blues, which occurred, assuming the discographies are correct, on August 15, 1969. "On the first date [which is always the way he refers to Accent on the Blues], I did half of the music. It was unheard of for a cat [who was not an established player] to just go into Blue Note and record his music. Usually when you went to Blue Note, they would have a star on the album, horn player or something. Frank Wolff and John just let me do something by myself. I was one of the first cats to do that, and John was gracious enough. He gave me a lot of opportunities to do my music." He added, "We needed a guitar player, so I recommended 'Blood'. So I called 'Blood' and 'Blood' came up and did the session and moved to New York. I got 'Blood' to New York. I knew 'Blood' from Detroit. He was working with a group out there, Focus Novii, with [drummer] Doug Hammond, [tenor saxophonist and Joe's brother] Leon Henderson, bassist John Dana, and [trumpeter] Charles Moore. They were doing all original music because Doug is a great writer, 'Blood's a writer...in fact, everybody in the band wrote. That was 'Blood's group. "[189] "Blood," of course, is James "Blood" Ulmer (born February 2, 1942 in St. Matthews, South Carolina), who was virtually unknown at the time. He had recorded once before with Columbus, Ohio-based organist Hank Marr in 1964 or 1965 (discographies do not agree on this, not even the King records discography) on Marr's Sounds from the Marr-ket Place for King Records[190]. He had been uncredited on the record sleeve, though discographies (as well as my own ears) confirm his involvement, as do interviews with Ulmer from the late 1970's. This was his first session in New York. Ulmer would later gain world-wide notoriety as a member of Ornette Coleman's group and as a singularly unique guitar stylist. Ulmer's inventiveness shines on Patton's recordings as well, and Patton recognized it, giving Ulmer the longest solo on "Rakin' and Scrapin,'" a Harold Mabern blues that opens Accent on the Blues. Cabell added,"'Blood' wasn't in the band as a player [at gigs], he just did recordings." Patton recalled doing some gigs with Ulmer at the time, as did Williams, " 'Blood' came in and did some gigs with us."
Cabell assumed the unofficial title of musical director in the group. Accent On The Blues marked the first time that Patton had recorded as leader with none of his own compositions present. "I wanted to deal with my publishing company and they didn't want to do it like that. They wanted to record you and put the tunes in that Groove Music [Blue Note's publishing company]. You know, you'd get 50% and they'd get 50%. But you know how that is...they were really messing you over with the money, man. It was so obvious, you know. Two pennies a record, then they wouldn't let you have the publishing. And instead of putting them [the originals] on the front side, they'd put them on the back side, where the DJ's wouldn't necessarily get to them. That's part of the reason why there's none of my tunes on there."[191]
Trombonist/composer Grachan Moncur III, who had joined Blue Note around the same time as Patton, recalled the situation with the publishing and Blue Note, "They kind of punished me. They say, 'You're a smart nigger. A smart nigger...we'll fix you. They did kick my butt a little. In a sense, if I knew then what I know now, I would have compromised more, but see I didn't have any guidance and I thought they were horrible guys when they did that. I wanted all of my publishing, like I said, I could have given them part of it. In the end, I found out that they were not as bad as I thought they were. It's just that I was inexperienced to the business and I didn't know how to maneuver. They got a little attitude by it. They said they were going to make me a star, they were very disappointed that I wanted all of the publishing and they dropped me like a hot potato, but they still wanted my music. They still wanted my music, but they didn't want to deal with me as one of their artists...which I would have gotten much more promotion and much more work. I was punished for quite some time..."[192] Moncur suffered much the same fate as Patton after his dispute with Blue Note, and did not record again as a leader until 1969 for the French BYG label.
Even without any of his own tunes, in Cabell, Patton found a kindred spirit who expressed some of the same ideas that he had been working towards. I told him what was happening as far as publishing was concerned, and he didn't have a publishing company and I couldn't put him in my publishing company, so it [Cabell's music] ended up with Blue Note, Groove Music. But he was happy about it, he [Frank Wolff] liked some of Marvin's tunes. He was very enthusiastic, there was a lot of enthusiasm in the music. You know, it being his first session had a lot do with it."[193] Indeed, Cabell had not dealt with the same end of the music business Patton had been dealing with for almost fifteen years at that point. Patton had been having problems with publishing companies, publishing rights and royalties since his days with Lloyd Price.
Accent On The Blues, despite its title, has no particular accent on the blues, except for "Rakin' and Scrapin'," on which all of the players shine, particularly Ulmer, who takes center stage and reveals a side of his musical persona which is very different from the one on which his reputation was built. The record is more subdued than Patton's recordings with Alexander, there is more of a feeling of control and subtlety involved. The emphasis on subtlety and melody are particularly evident on Cabell's compositions "Lite Hit" (which Patton maintains in his repertory and recorded again in 1994) and "Village Lee." The tunes are simple harmonically, barely having any changes, but it is obvious from the way they are interpreted, that their end is not to be flashy, but to sing. Leroy Williams even plays the melody of "Village Lee" on the drums. Even on Cabell's more aggressive "Captain Nasty" and the version of Eddie Harris' "Freedom Jazz Dance," there is a focused restraint. "Singing" with solos is something Patton emphasizes in his own solos and to new players who start playing with him (this I know from personal experience). The bombastic element that is so often associated with (and often rightfully so) jazz organ playing is conspicuous in its absence in Patton's last two records for Blue Note. Patton had found a voice on his instrument that could still "shout" without the typical organ "screaming"[194] and was developing his musical ideas with a calm clarity and focus. Accent On The Blues would be the last Patton record that Blue Note would release at the time it was recorded.
Without Ulmer, the group worked as a trio, "Leroy and I were in that band I guess for about 4 or 5 years. I was splitting time time between that group, John's group, Lonnie Smith's group, and Johnny Lytle's band." Of Patton's group he added, "We worked quite a bit, man. We practiced a lot, we worked a lot...different places around New York, so we kept our stuff pretty sharp. That's one thing about John, he loved to practice and play and that's the only way to keep the music happening. He'd always be thinking music...you know, different things. We were trying develop a different sound. It just evolved to that, because we all had different approaches to the music. I did some arranging and writing. We did a lot of things like Miles' stuff, McCoy Tyner, mostly a lot of originals. We did a lot of different types of music, man. We were a band that played everything...I don't like just playing one thing. It's boring. There's a lot of different motions and that's what I like, man. A variety of motions in the music. You know, it can swing, it can be outside, it can be inside."[195] Williams echoed Cabell's sentiments on the diversity of the group, "We did all kinds of things...we would do a funky kind of thing, a few bebop tunes, and Marvin was contributing music. He wrote nice and he had his saxello and flute, so it was a variety of things."[196] Williams left the fold before Cabell, "Marvin was still in the band when I left...it must have been around '71."
The band would also go on the road as Cabell recalled, "We went to Pittsburgh, Philly, Chicago...we played so many different venues." One of the venues was "Detroit Coliseum, 1971...they flew Jazzbo in. So it was me, Jazzbo, John, and I think Leroy was in the band at that time. The Staple Singers came on first, and then then we came on, and then Isaac Hayes came on. He was wearing these chains with his outfit."[197] The outfit Cabell is referring to is the one that Hayes wears on the cover of his Black Moses LP from that era.
Cabell remembered an incident on the road, "[laughing loudly] I don't know if John wants me to tell this one. [still laughing] They [Patton and Leroy Williams] left the hotel...you know. They weren't going to pay their bill. It was a crazy hotel in Pittsburgh. We never liked Pittsburgh anyway. So...I threw the bags out the window to them. It's the first time I'd experienced that...I'd heard about cats doing it. Then, when I got up and got ready to check out the next day...[imitating hotel clerk] 'Where's your friends?' I'd say, 'I don't know.' 'They're gone!' 'Nothing I can do about that.' John and Leroy, my men!"[198] Williams added, "I remember a gig we did in Pittsburgh and we didn't get all of our money one of those times. We didn't have enough money to pay for the hotel and I think Marvin got out the back door. I know I did, I think Marvin was with me. We had to get out of the hotel because the club owners didn't pay us. That was one of those...we usually got paid."[199]
Patton did one last session for Blue Note on October 2, 1970, with, assuming the discographies are correct, the same group as Accent On The Blues. Patton contributed two of his own compositions to this session, the funky "Memphis," and the moody "Steno," which remains in his repertory today. Ulmer and Cabell each contributed a composition, "Bloodyun" and "The Mandingo," respectively. The record also contains a version of Wayne Shorter's "Footprints." In my conversations with Williams and Cabell, they have both emphasized how this group, aside from being a "happy group" (their words), in terms of their personal and musical ties, stood apart from other organ groups in their repertory, its diversity, and style of musical execution. Memphis To New York Spirit displays all of these facets of the group. Just how different this record is, in repertory and approach, from other organ records that were recorded at the time is obvious when hearing the work done by any of the other organists of the era like Charles Earland, Jimmy McGriff, Jack McDuff, Johnny "Hammond" Smith or Lonnie Smith, to name only a few. Memphis To New York Spirit was almost released at two different times in the early 1970's, receiving two different issue numbers from Blue Note (4366 and 4418), but like Boogaloo and the session with George Coleman, remained unissued until the mid-1990's. His working relationship with Blue Note, for all intents and purposes, was over. It would be Patton's last trip to the studio in seven years and his last trip as leader until June 7, 1983.
Not surprisingly, Patton was extremely upset about the situation with Blue Note. "I was going to go with Epic Records," but he was unable to free himself from his contract with Blue Note, and it never happened. As late as 1976, Patton was still bound by contract to Blue Note, though because of his disgust with his situation with them, he refused to record for them again after Memphis To New York Spirit. What followed was a period of disillusionment with the music business that was so great, that Patton went "underground." What Patton means by "underground" is that, "you drop out of sight as far as anything being commercially happening. You're not really on the scene. If you play a gig, it's probably as a sideman on a side street, or at a loft, and it's not advertised."[200] As his current wife Thelma added, "He wouldn't play. He just totally went out of music...maybe he'd play a jam session here and there. When he was playing, he wasn't playing anywhere where he would allow them to use his name. He was just playing, no publicity...none at all. And he'd expected more out of Blue Note...the cover [referring to That Certain Feeling], they had a white girl on the cover. His picture, that was supposed to be a part of it...and that was the big discrepancy there. He couldn't record for anybody else because he was still under contract to them. I think that's why they canned a lot of his CD's until now. He was quite disgusted. In fact, a lot of black musicians were disgusted with a lot of things that had happened to them. He was disenchanted I'd say for a good ten years."[201]
In retrospect, this disillusionment is perhaps traceable to other factors as well. Despite being at the heart of the scene for the bulk of the '60's, Patton received very little recognition in the jazz press. Even during his most active period, he was rarely recognized in Downbeat polls, and there is not a single article about him in any of the jazz magazines, though this is typical of the general bias against organ players in general, then and now. The situation with the Downbeat polls is even more ridiculous in retrospect. To cite just one example, the poll results for organ appearing in the August 25, 1966 issue of Downbeat has Count Basie and Clare Fischer listed. At present, the year 2000, it is safe to say that Count Basie's work in the oeuvre of organ playing, with all due respect to his other achievements, is nothing more than a triviality, and perhaps just a way the record companies were cashing in on Basie's name with the popularity of the organ in that era. Likewise with Fischer, whose work on organ is now also considered an anomaly. Though this may actually have no bearing on why he is there, it is notable that Fischer is the only white artist on the list.[202] Today, neither of them is considered to be influential in any way in terms of the development of the style and it is rare for them to be even mentioned when speaking of jazz organ among aficionados. At the time, Patton mentions, "I'd never even heard Clare Fischer play organ," and of Basie, that it was a conversation piece among organists, but not something that was taken seriously among him and his peers. And yet, because it was Basie, it automatically garnered more attention because of the politics involved with Basie's legendary status (albeit in other fields). "You know, those guys [people like Basie and Fischer], they couldn't get the whole thing going. They didn't attack that bass line like we [the "real" organists] did, that was a whole other thing."
As far as the bias against organists, and some of the other politics involved in what little literature there is on jazz organ playing, one need not look any further than the most recent edition of the New Grove Dictionary of Jazz. In fact, one can surmise some of what the content is simply from the picture on the page, which is of Basie, and not of one of the "real" organists, like Larry Young, or Patton, or Patterson, or McDuff, or even, Jimmy Smith. Some of the bias is seemingly present when writing of sidemen who appeared with organists, particularly drummers. As an example, in the entry for Eddie Gladden, there is no mention of his long association with Larry Young and his creative playing within that context which is not "strictly within the hard bop tradition" as the entry suggests. There is no mention of Patton in the entry for Leroy Williams or James 'Blood' Ulmer, though their tenures with Patton were significant stopping points in their careers. There is no entry at all for Joe Dukes (Jack McDuff's drummer through most of the 1960's), despite the fact that he appears on well over fifty records. This sort of discrimination against musicians involved in the jazz organ genre did not occur overnight, and the generally disdainful attitude towards the music is present in many record reviews in Downbeat, among others, in the 1960's.
Furthermore, when some of the "real" organists are mentioned in the literature, there is a tendency to lump all of their work together, as if there were no distinction between any of them. There is always an emphasis on the influence of Jimmy Smith on then as well, which is not always true, as in the case of Patton's work from 1968 on and Larry Young's work after 1964. A simple comparison between two tunes recorded by Patton and Charles Earland in 1970 points out the fatal flaw in lumping the work of all jazz organists together. Patton recorded Wayne Shorter's "Footprints" and Earland recorded "Raindrops Keep Fallling On My Head" (June 1, 1970 for Black Drops, Prestige 7815). Clearly, there is a big difference in the philosophy Patton had at the time as compared to Earland. Simply put, he refused to sell out and others did not. As current wife Thelma said, "John has a lot of integrity when it comes to his music. You just can't buy it. You can't buy him like that. John will give you something for free musically, but to tell him to play this or play that...he's not going to do it."[203] Of course, Patton's full contributions to jazz organ could not be fully assessed until now, when all of the records not released by Blue Note at the time have finally made their way to the public. Nonetheless, as it is with any genre or sub-genre of music, there is much nuance that will not be obvious at a glance; so it is with the treatment of jazz organ in the few writings there are.
Disillusioned or not, Patton still had to work. So, late in 1972, Patton took a gig as a sideman for vocalist Arthur Prysock (1929-1997). It was one of those gigs that he considered "underground," as it did not feature him prominently and his name was not used in any of the advertisements. Furthermore, it was a big departure from the material he had been doing. It would have been difficult to make the connection between the John Patton on, say, Understanding and John Patton the sideman at a supper club. Essentially, it was dropping out of the scene he had been at the heart of for ten years and into another world (no dashikis on stage in Prysock's band). He went on the road and did hotel and country club engagements with Prysock, a baritone singer who had made a reputation as a specialist in romantic ballads in a string of recordings for Verve in the 1960's. Though perhaps musically unrewarding, working with Prysock did bring him a different type of reward.
Current wife Thelma recalls, "I met John at the Stellington House in Montclair [New Jersey]. There used to be a jazz club up there and he was playing with Arthur Prysock at the time. My tennis team was there...it was a Friday night. That's the first night I saw him. It was April of 1973, that was the beginning, and from then on, it just snowballed. We didn't see each other again until May. He was on his way to Texas. They went to Texas and then came back and they were in Atlantic City for the summer and I would go down there on the weekends and meet him, because at the time we were both sort of disenchanted with our marriages. So it wasn't a full...like we were together. But it just got to the point where we just started being together, being together, being together...and we just ended up staying together before we even knew it was happening and up to this date. John was still marred to Ellen at that point and I was still married, too."[204] Patton left Prysock that fall.
Patton had eased his way out of the Nation of Islam. According to Thelma, by the time they had gotten together, "He wasn't going to any of the meetings." Patton was still involved enough, however, to take her so she could have the experience. She remembered, "I've had one experience [with the Nation of Islam] and that was one time with John. There was a Muslim hall in Newark and John begged me to go. We went there and the first thing they did was search you, which, of course, I resented. I guess so you don't come in there with any arms. I don't know. I resented that. The second thing was that I had to sit upstairs and John sat downstairs or wherever he went. You know, you have questions, but I guess females are not supposed to raise their hands. Of course, if you sound intelligent, you're not asked to speak anyhow. So I said to John that would be the last time I'd go. I just couldn't believe it! I'm not a humble person in that respect...so John just kind of backed off on that one. Of course, I was inquisitive enough to go."[205] Patton moved in with Thelma Green in Montclair, New Jersey in 1975, having ended his marriage of 11 years to Ellen Brooks.
In 1976, while remaining "underground," Thelma Patton recalled, "He was offered quite a bit of money to play at that South African thing where they wanted the black musicians to play for the white audiences...and he wouldn't take it. I said, 'All that money, what are you talking about? Why don't you take it?' He said, 'I can't do that. I can't just betray my music and my people.'"[206] John Patton himself added on the subject, "They wrote several letters for me to come to South Africa through Blue Note. I wouldn't go because of the apartheid over there. They were knocking musicians out of gigs who went over there when they came back. Groups like Ray Charles and Aretha, they're the ones that went. They wouldn't lose gigs anyway."[207] Though he was underground and not wanting to get out and gig, Patton still wanted to keep his underground status on his own terms and not be forced out of gigs in case he changed his mind.
Another "underground" gig Patton took was as musical director and conductor for the band that went on tour with the Jackson 5 for their "Touch of Class" tour in the late 1970's. In some ways, it was a sort of deja vu for Patton as it shared some of the characteristics of his work in the Lloyd Price band twenty years earlier. Patton remembered, "I was part of the big band that played for all the other groups [besides the Jacksons, who had their own band]...they had a lot of dancers and a lot of other groups...some of the doo-wop names. We did a roundabout thing [tour around the country] and ended up at the coliseum out there in Long Island, Nassau Coliseum. That was the last one. Oh man, there were so many people there. We rehearsed in one of the big rehearsal halls on west 48th or 49th St. That's where we got it all together."[208]
Around this time, on October 31, 1977, Patton also recorded as a sideman for vibraphonist Johnny Lytle. Lytle (1932-1996) had recorded several jazz juke-box hits in the 1960's, "Lela," "Selim" (his own composition, not the piece on Miles Davis' Live-evil), and the "Village Caller," for a variety of labels, including Riverside. Lytle had fronted an organ group during the bulk of his career, and had been the one-time employer of Patton's friend and bandmate, Marvin Cabell. Cabell, however, had nothing to do with Patton landing this date. Patton, true to his "underground" form of not bringing attention to himself, did not play organ on the session, but instead played piano and electric piano. This recording was the only one he had done that he was not featured on organ since the Fred Jackson session from June of 1962, which at that time was still unissued. Patton is not the only keyboard player on the date and is at times buried in the mix.
The scene in Newark during the 1980's, though it is not something that has been publicized much, was very happening and Patton was at the heart of it. As such, he was again
The bulk of Patton's musical activity centered around Pearl's Pub. Thelma Patton remembers, "It's not there any more, they tore it down. It was in Newark on West Market Street. Pearl Hunter, she passed away, it was her place...John and Eddie Gladden were like the house band, so everybody came through there. Harold Vick, came through there, Curtis Fuller, Sonny Stitt...I mean all of the guys came through there. It was a very happening thing. John Lewis [not of the Modern Jazz Quartet, but the club manager] was responsible for coordinating that. He was a great guy, like my big brother, I knew him from growing up in Montclair." playing, at different times, with jazz players of legendary status like Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis, "Big" Nick Nicholas, and James Spaulding, as well as old sidekicks like George Braith. A brief, one week engagement in the mid-1980's at Sparky J's was a trio of himself, Pharaoh Sanders, and George Brown, who had been a member of Patton's group in 1968. Patton recalled that Sanders played fairly straight on many standards and conventional tunes, like Bobby Timmon's "Moanin'," as well as getting into the bag that Sanders is most often associated with. Presumably, the group also did some of the tunes that the Patton-Harold Alexander-George Brown trio had done in 1968, as Sanders' style obviously lent itself to the tunes which had at one time had Harold Alexander's outbursts of freedom.
Marvin Cabell remembered of Patton's "underground" period, "We'd still hit now and then. John opened my club in Baltimore, it was called the Full Moon. He was the first cat I had there. That was in '79. I think he stayed there for three weeks or a month. My club was open from 10 [p.m.] to 4 in the morning and everybody who was in town used to come through my club when they were through working...Ira Sullivan, Big Nick [Nicholas], Jaki Byard, Milt Jackson. Some of the cats would play...especially Big Nick. During the day, I was teaching younger cats. I would have students that come through the club and rehearse."[209]
Patton also did stints teaching at two different times in the late 1970's. One was a program teaching underprivileged youth in Gary, Indiana for the Inner City Youth Programs. Thelma Patton recalled, "I think his mom was moving. The highway was coming through the street where the house was [in Kansas City]. John went out there to help her do the moving and whatnot and that's when they asked him if he would do some teaching out there. His cousin had something to do with that, so he went to Gary [Indiana]. He went back there for a while. Later, he also taught at Hastings on the Hudson [as part of an after school Cultural Enrichment Program]."[210] Those were mainly student ensembles, but in recent years Patton has also turned to giving private lessons to aspiring organists. As we shall see, this was not Patton's only teaching experience.
In the early '80's, Patton began to get more involved in the scene again. He had befriended trombonist/composer Grachan Moncur III (born Miami, Florida, June 3, 1937), with whom he rehearsed regularly in Moncur's downtown Newark studio. Moncur, though he was born in Florida, has spent most of his life in Newark, where he currently resides. Patton had met Moncur in 1963, when both had been recently signed by Blue Note. The combination of Patton and Moncur seems unlikely on the surface, as Moncur had made most of his reputation in jazz history playing freer forms of jazz with the likes of Archie Shepp, Marion Brown, Sonny Rollins (in 1964, during one of his freer periods), and Beaver Harris, as well as for some of the more unique compositions to emerge in jazz in the 1960's. Patton remembered, "In the middle part of the '80's me and Grachan hooked up. Me and Grachan would woodshed together. We would really go deeply into the woodshed...learning tunes, learning melodies. We did a lot of gigs together, interviews, and my record date. Grachan, you know, is quite a composer. You KNOW I like the way he writes, his tunes are so great...and I was really impressed. In fact, we had a little studio we used to woodshed in in downtown Newark."[211] Some of Moncur's tunes, like "The Coaster," which he had recorded on his Evolution session for Blue Note in 1963, fit into Patton's scheme of things perfectly, and Patton has written tunes in a similar vein himself. Patton ended up recording the tune on his only date as leader of the '80's, titled Soul Connection , for drummer Alvin Queen's independent, Swiss-based label, Nilva Records. The record was issued only in Europe and has never been issued in the United States.
Moncur said of that era, "John was very instrumental in my workshop as a keyboard instructor. It was a segment of the Moncuranian Jazz Workshop, and I had a studio right here on Warren Street, right here on the edge of Rutgers campus, I had a studio. The piano workshop that I had, it really consisted of John Patton, LaRue Jordan, and my wife, who was more classically trained. And we got together every single day, and it went on for seven or eight years. Quite a few people got a lot out of that, quite a few artists who came through like Cassandra Wilson, Geri Allen...that was when I was composer in residence at Newark Unity School of the Arts."[212] Patton was also doing gigs with Moncur on a regular basis in different clubs, including Sparky J's, in Newark during this period.
The session for Soul Connection almost did not happen, as Thelma Patton recalled, "Going to get Grachan in Newark, well, Grachan was late. So we were waiting for him, and by the time we got up there [Minot Studios, in White Plains, New York], they were getting ready to say cancel. The engineer, Ron Carran, was really nice and he was one of John's great fans and he didn't mind working late." Once the date did get rolling, things were not as smooth as they could have been, as Moncur and guitarist Melvin Sparks got into a disagreement in the middle of the session. Thelma remembered, "Grachan [being a composer] was very particular about his music [two of his tunes are on the session], so he wanted Melvin to play a certain way...and Melvin and Grachan got into a big thing over that, and John had to say, 'hey man, this is my gig.' The vibes were kind of...[making a face of discomfort] Melvin was a little disturbed with Grachan, but because he liked John a lot, he just discounted Grachan, more or less."[213]
The potential problems aside, the date shows Patton to be in top-notch form in his first studio date as leader in almost thirteen years, playing as loose and free as ever on the title cut, Dusko Goykovich's "Soul Connection," as he is on his own "Extensions," a modal piece based on the"So What" idea, but with an added turnaround. Patton's rhythm section interplay with Alvin Queen (b. New York, 1950) is also remarkable, as Queen displays some of the loose style that characterized Leroy Williams' playing, but with more of a straight ahead drive, or to put it in Leroy Williams' terms, not as wide a beat. Queen, though he has recorded with Wild Bill Davis and Lonnie Smith is not the "typical organ drummer"[214] either, as he came up playing in Charles Tolliver's Music Inc. in the 1970's, at the time Stanley Cowell was in the band and with Harry Edison and Junior Mance, among others. His diversity and taste mesh beautifully with Patton and Sparks in the rhythm section, and the entire band makes the session happen despite the tension that had happened in the studio.
In the process of getting out and doing more gigs in the 1980's, Patton got a working group together with guitarist Jimmy Ponder and drummer Eddie Gladden. It is not clear whether Ponder or Patton was the official leader of the group, but the group came together as a result of Patton and Gladden's association at Pearl's Pub in Newark. Gladden (b. Newark, December 6, 1937), another diverse drum stylist, has an extensive recording resume, but is best known for his associations with Larry Young in the 1960's (he is on virtually all of Young's ground-breaking recordings on Blue Note) and Dexter Gordon in the 1970's. He was a mainstay on the Newark scene whenever he was not on the road with any of the numerous people he worked with as a sideman. As Ponder mentioned, this led to the group appearing on Ponder's solo records for Muse in the 1980's.
It was during this period that Patton received a call from saxophonist/composer John Zorn. Thelma Patton says, "Zorn called John. I don't even know if John knew about Zorn, because Zorn plays avant-garde [among many other things]. But John was noe of his favorite organ players. Zorn is a very, very, very nice person. I love him, he's a really great guy." Aside from that, Zorn was well connected and active in numerous different projects, in the United States and in Japan, where he had spent a considerable amount of time beginning in 1985. Zorn had called Patton in 1985 to take part in his Big Gundown project on one track. Zorn later called Patton in to play on the extended piece, "Two-Lane Highway," (which Zorn himself subtitled "Concerto for Albert Collins" in the liner notes) on his project Spillane, in 1987.
Zorn, with a completely different sort of audience in tow, helped give Patton all sorts of exposure, including a trip to the Jazz Festival in Bari, Italy in 1988. Thelma Patton recalled of the trip, "We came in a week early. It [Bari] was very native and very few of them had seen black people [despite its proximity to North Africa]. And John and I, at that time, we were the only blacks on the island. You know, I'd have about fifteen men following me around, and John with the men and the women. They bought us drinks...you know, we were treated like royalty. The night before the concert, Ulmer came in. I guess that was the second time they'd seen another black person, so there were three of us on the island. Ulmer went right out the same night. Ulmer played on the gig, they did all John's music, of course." Zorn also scheduled a radio interview for himself and Patton, of which Thelma remembered, "We had an occasion of going on the radio and they had a Japanese guy they were interviewing. And they were interviewing him as if John [Patton] and John [Zorn] were not even there, you know. And John Zorn was very, very upset about that. John Zorn said, 'I'm going to jump out the window! I can't believe they're disgracing me like this!' John and John were ticked off that they would take this young, Japanese kid coming out of nowhere and here's two great names and taking hours and hours...you know, from the time he was born until he got here and there. We sat there for like two hours and they [the radio people] were talking ten or fifteen minutes. So I said to John [Patton], 'what are you going to do?' This is really, terrible...really embarrassing.' So we got up and walked out...they came after them and eventually, I think they did do the interview...it was funny after a while, but not then."[215] Zorn also helped Patton get booked in clubs that would not usually book him, like the Knitting Factory, where he played several times in the late '80's and into the early 1990's, with Zorn in the band.
Zorn, of course, is one of the more versatile musicians of our time, so adapting to Patton's band was no problem for him. Zorn has done numerous jazz-oriented projects like a record in tribute to Sonny Clark, on which he sounds a bit like Jackie McLean around 1960. Zorn's unique sound effects on the alto saxophone and his own outbursts of freedom were perfectly at home in Patton's group as well, as the 1993 recording of "Congo Chant" from Blue Planet Man will attest. Thelma Patton said, "What happened with Zorn is that he has a recording company with a Japanese guy. He started recording John [Patton] and I guess the name started going out there. The Japanese then came to John to record. So Zorn did a couple of recordings with John."[216]
The Japanese that Thelma Patton is referring to is Yoshiyama of Japan's King Records. He heard Patton at a club in Montclair, New Jersey in 1992 and hooked up the record deal that lead to Blue Planet Man. She added, "Well, Yoshiyama couldn't be here[for the session], so he asked me to do the producing, instead of making me the associate producer he just made me the producer, knowing that I that I knew the musicians and how to get them together, and the rehearsals, and all of that kind of thing. We actually wanted Lou Donaldson, but Lou wasn't available so that's why we had Bill Saxton on there. Lou was away, I think he was in Europe. The budget was issued to me through the Japanese. So, as producer, you coordinate, you get the money together, you find out who's on first, who's on second and you try to get the good vibes and the personalities together and the guys you know John likes to work with, and like to work with John. There's plenty of rehearsals and you have to set up the food, and you've got to pay for the rehearsals and those sorts of things. Get them set up and ready. It's a big baby sitting job...that's exactly what it is. It was baby sitting the whole time. I enjoyed it though, I really did. And the studio we recorded in was one of the high tech studios. Fantastic studio [Skyline Studios in New York City]."
Later, John Zorn helped arrange a deal with the Japanese label DIW. Patton has recorded his last two records for them. Zorn has been involved in Patton's last three recordings, playing on 1994's Minor Swing and producing Patton's most recent recording, This One's For Ja. Minor Swing consisted mostly of updated versions of tunes Patton recorded during his Blue Note period, including his signature, "Along Came John," and a tribute to Larry Young with Young's 3/4 blues "Tyrone." All of these records, were issued only in Japan originally, but have since been released in the United States on Evidence (Blue Planet Man) and DIW (the other two). His most recent recording continues to reflect the influence of some musicians he has admired since the 1960's, Wayne Shorter and John Coltrane, containing versions of Shorter's "Children of the Night" and Coltrane's "Syeeda's Song Flute." The record also includes some of Patton's more recent compositions, including the engaging bossa nova, "Patand," which is a mainstay in his current live repertory. Patton continues to compose and has a number of recent compositions that have yet to be recorded or performed live.
Though he has been slowed a bit by diabetes and a freak injury to his right hand that he sustained while changing a tire on his van in the early '90's, Patton has received much of the recognition in the '90's that eluded him earlier in his career and is alive and well. He told an interviewer for Chicago's New City newspaper in March, 1999, (Chicago's answer to the Village Voice) of his injury, "I was ready to open up the last fingers, so I could hit those extended chords instead of doing so many tucks, then this little accident happened, but hey, one monkey don't stop no show!" He plays several gigs a year in Europe, particularly England, where he has been on several occasions and has a big following. He has also played in Canada. Surprisingly, despite the connection with the Japanese record label, he has not ventured to Japan, where much of his music which has not been reissued in the United States is readily available. He also plays engagements throughout the United States, occasionally hooking up with old friends like George Braith and George Freeman to do gigs. As of now, Patton now has more of his music available to the public than ever before in his career.
In closing, we can only hope that the "rediscovery" of many of the organists from the 1960's and their records that has resulted from the "acid jazz" fad is not a fleeting moment, but also leads to a deeper appreciation of the music made by musicians like John Patton. Patton, unlike many of his peers on the instrument, attempted to bridge several areas of jazz in his music and should be recognized for his unique statements. As of 1968, Patton was not as commercially oriented as other organists and other former associates of his, like Lou Donaldson and Grant Green. His music was not overtly out like some of Larry Young's work, and as such, has often been neglected for not being "out" enough or "commercial" enough. Therein lies its vision, as a bridge of stylistic elements drawn from the many musicians who Patton has played with and known through the years, but always expressing these seemingly disparate ideas without forgetting the groove. Patton has pursued his musical vision when given the opportunity, and we can only hope the opportunity presents itself more often
[1] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[2] John Patton Resume, updated 1998.
[3] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[4] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 24 September 1999.
Patton named his tune "Jerry" on "Oh Baby!" (Blue Note 4192, 1965) after his younger brother.
[5] Martin, Terry. Liner Notes. John Patton: Blue John. LP and CD. Blue Note 84143, 1986.
[6] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[7] Martin, Terry. Liner Notes. John Patton: Blue John. LP and CD. Blue Note 84143, 1986.
[8] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 24 September 1999.
[9] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[10] Martin, Terry. Liner Notes. John Patton: Blue John. LP and CD. Blue Note 84143, 1986.
[11] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[12] Levin, Robert. Liner Notes. Baby Face Willette: Face To Face. LP and CD. Blue Note 84068 (LP) and 59382 (CD), 1961 (LP) and 1997 (CD).
[13] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[14] ibid.
[15] Martin, Terry. Liner notes. John Patton: Blue John. LP and CD. Blue Note 84143, 1986.
[16] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[17] Shields, Del. Liner notes. John Patton: Oh Baby!. LP. Blue Note 4192, 1965.
[18] ibid.
[19] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[20] Santelli, Robert. The Big Book of Blues. New York: Penguin Books, 1993, p. 333. Different sources vary on the actual birthdate for Price, citing both 1933 and 1934 as the year of birth, and New Orleans as the place of birth. Oddly, the day, March 9, is the same in all references.
[21] Santelli, Robert. The Big Book of Blues. New York: Penguin Books, 1993, p. 333.
[22] Hale, Natt. Liner Notes. Lloyd Price: The Exciting Lloyd Price. LP. ABC-Paramount 277, 1959.
[23] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 30 April 1999.
[24] Martin, Terry. Liner Notes. John Patton: Blue John. LP and CD. Blue Note 84143, 1986.
[25] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 24 September 1999.
[26] Scaduto, Anthony. "Harold Vick, Played with Jazz Giants" New York Newsday 16 November 1987, morning ed., obituaries. This article also imparts some of Vick's other playing experience which is not commonly cited, such as his association with the Dizzy Gillespie Big Band in 1969-1970, King Curtis in 1969-1970, and Aretha Franklin from 1970-1974. Vick was among the many jazz musicians who returned to r & b in the 1970's because of the economic realities facing jazz musicians.
[27] Goldberg, Joe. Liner notes. Harold Vick: Steppin' Out! LP and CD. Blue Note 84138 (LP) and 52433 (CD), 1963 (LP) and 1996 (CD).
[28] During one of our rehearsals together in February of 1999, I asked Patton who his favorite guitarist was. He simply replied: "You mean, besides Grant?"
[29] Hale, Natt. Liner Notes. Lloyd Price: The Exciting Lloyd Price. LP. ABC-Paramount 277, 1959.
[30] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[31] Vera, Billy. Liner Notes. Lloyd Price: Lawdy!. CD. Specialty 7010, 1993.
[32] Curson, Ted. Personal Interview. 16 August 1999.
[33] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[34] ibid.
[35] ibid.
[36] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[37] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 24 September 1999.
[38] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[39] Cobb, Jimmy. Unpublished interview by Sang-Bum Shim. 6 December 1998.
[40] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[41] The term "tommin'" derives from the term "Uncle Tom." Part of the definition found in Juba to Jive: A Dictionary of African-American Slang (Edited by Clarence Major, who also wrote the introduction, Viking Press, New York, 1994) states: " a black person who is culturally disloyal; a black person who does not practice cultural loyalty; a pejorative term for any African-American perceived by any other African-American to be "middle-class," to own property, and to have money in the bank."
[42] Fallico, Pete. "Big" John Patton. January 1996. online. theatreorgans.com/doodlin/patton.
28 October 1999.
[43] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 30 April 1999.
[44] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[45] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[46] Patton, John. Personal interview. 24 September 1999.
[47] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[48] ibid.
[49] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[50] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[51] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[52] Patton, John. Personal interview. 24 September 1999.
[53] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[54] Feather, Leonard. John Patton, Blue Note Records. Liberty Records, Inc. Press Information,
March, 6, 1968.
[55] Garland, Phyl. Liner notes. John Patton: Let 'Em Roll. LP. Blue Note 84239, 1966.
[56] Goldberg, Joe. Liner notes. John Patton: Along Came John. LP. Blue Note 84130, 1963.
[57] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 29 January 1999.
[58] "John Zorn." Keyboard August 1990: 70.
[59] Shields, Del. Liner notes. John Patton: Oh Baby! LP. Blue Note 84192, 1965.
[60] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[61] Perhaps the best examples of this (and there are several of them) can be heard on "Surrey With The Fringe On Top," from Grant Green's "Blues For Lou" CD (Blue Note 21438, 1999) recorded February 20, 1963, or "Bad John" from Lou Donaldson's "Good Gracious!," (Blue Note 84125, CD 54325) recorded January 24, 1963.
[62] Among them is Don Patterson (1936-1988), who made his mark in the 1960's as the most bebop influenced organ player. His long association with Sonny Stitt on recordings (mostly on Prestige Records) and the bandstand, choice of repertory (including bebop standards like Tadd Dameron's "Good Bait," Charlie Parker's "Now's The Time," and "Donna Lee," and Dizzy Gillespie's "Blue 'n' Boogie," among others ), and a touch that was at times as indebted to Bud Powell as Jimmy Smith are all factors that have led writers (including this one) to that statement.
[63] Shields, Del. Liner notes. John Patton: Oh Baby! LP. Blue Note 84192, 1965.
[64] Patton, John, Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[65] Garland, Phyl. Liner notes. John Patton: Let 'Em Roll. LP. Blue Note 84239, 1966.
[66] Ibid.
[67] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[68] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[69] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[70] Patton, John. Personal interview. 10 November 1999.
[71] According to the June 15, 1963 issue of the New Amsterdam News, the name "Branker's" was officially changed to "Showplace on the Hill," though the name "Branker's" was still often used to refer to the club.
[72] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[73] The first session, "Here 'Tis" (Blue Note 84066, recorded January 23, 1961), is one of Grant Green's first sessions for Blue Note. The second, "Man With A Horn," (Blue Note 21436, recorded September 25, 1961) was done with Jack McDuff's group (sans Harold Vick), which also included Grant Green, around the time that Donaldson met Patton. The session was unissued until 1999.
[74] Donaldson, Lou. Personal interview. 15 November 1999.
[75] ibid.
[76] ibid.
[77] An advertisement for the gig appeared on p. 18 of the December 30, 1961 edition of the New Amsterdam News. Patton confirmed his involvement on the gig to me on December 6, 1999.
[78] Patton, John. Personal interviews. 30 April 1999 and 16 November 1999.
[79] Donaldson, Lou. Personal interview. 15 November 1999. Patton confirmed this incident on 16 November 1999, he laughed as he said, "Oh, yeah, on the throughway."
[80] Porter, Bob. Liner notes. Lou Donaldson: The Scorpion: Live At The Cadillac Club. CD. Blue Note 31876, 1995.
[81] Wilson, Reuben. Personal interview. 7 November 1998.
LP. Blue Note 84108, 1962.
[83] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[84] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[85] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[86] Martin, Terry. Liner notes. John Patton: Blue John. LP and CD. Blue Note 84143, 1986.
[87] Green, Sharony Andrews. Grant Green: Rediscovering the Forgotten Genius of Jazz Guitar. San Francisco: Miller-Freeman Books, 1999.
[88] Walker, Jesse H. "Tavern Topics" column. New Amsterdam News 24 August 1963, p. 16.
[89] Patton, John. Personal Interview. 17 October 1999. Patton was not certain if the drummer that night was Ben Dixon or Chauncey Williams, who regularly played at Branker's both with Patton and organist Gloria Coleman. Several clippings from the New Amsterdam News of the era confirm that Grant Green was a part of both groups as well.
[90] Patton, John. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[91] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[92] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[93] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[94] Only one tune from the session has been released, and not until October, 1999 on a Blue Note compilation titled "The Lost Sessions." (Blue Note 21484) One of the many priceless moments I have had since meeting John Patton was the first time I played him the released track, "Cowbell Boogie," and asked him to guess who was playing the piano. Not having heard the piece in over 37 years, he made several incorrect guesses and still did not realize that it was actually him on the recording. He laughed ecstatically when I eventually told him that it was him.
[95] Patton, John. Personal interview. 17 October 1999.
[96] Dixon recalled the wedding, being the best man, and that Mary Lois was from Uniontown, Pennsylvania, but did not know her maiden name. He said, "My mother would probably know. I think she has some pictures of that, but I'm not sure." There has been no further pursuit of the matter. See next footnote.
[97] Because the subject was of a sensitive nature to Patton, it took many different conversations to finally piece together the events of that night. Patton's current wife, Thelma, was also very helpful in trying to put the story together. The bulk of the information was drawn from interviews on 29 January, 1999, 26 July, 1999 and 17 October, 1999. It should also be noted that Calvin Newborn told an erroneous account of the situation in his book, "As Quiet As Its Kept: The Genius of Phineas Newborn, Jr." (Memphis, TN, Phineas Newborn, Jr. Family Foundation, 1996).
[98] Donaldson, Lou. Personal interview. 15 November 1999.
[99] Delaney, Paul. "Jazz Debut (Again) Draws Few." Dayton Daily News February, 1967. There is missing bibliographic information on this article because it was taken from the clippings file at the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers, Newark.
[100] Patton, John. Personal interview. 30 April 1999.
[101] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[102] The guitarist on the session was the late Roy Montrell (d.1979). Montrell was based out of New Orleans and was the studio guitarist on many New Orleans rhythm and blues records on the Minit and Instant labels, among others. Patton recalls that Montrell had toured with the Lloyd Price orchestra when both Patton and Dixon were in the group. Montrell also toured with rhythm and blues stalwarts Roy Milton and Fats Domino.
[103] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[104] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[105] Williams had been a bandmate of Green's in his native St. Louis before both relocated to New York. Williams appeared with Green on St. Louis organist Sam Lazar's Space Flight on Argo in 1960, Green's first recording with an organ combo.
[106] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 Febraury 2000.
[107] Patton, John. Personal interview. 30 April 1999.
[108] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[109] Donaldson's current band, which is an organ combo featuring Lonnie Smith, still plays similar sets to this, including some of the same tunes like "Caracas." I had the good fortune of seeing one of their shows myself in August, 1999. Patton still includes some of the tunes in his sets, like "Good Gracious," and "Caracas," among others.
[110] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[111] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[112] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[113] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[114] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[115] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[116] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[117] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[118] In some ways, Henderson not appearing on the Way I Feel is a blessing, as it is the last recording known to be extant of Jackson's exquisitely soulful saxophone playing. He, or someone with the exact same, not uncommon name, appears on Bobby Hutcherson's Head On (Blue Note 84376, 1971) playing piccolo. As Michael Cuscuna commented in the liner notes to the CD reissue of Jackson's Hootin' and Tootin' (Blue Note 21819) in 1997, "Nothing more was heard from him on the jazz scene since that time." Patton himself commented on Jackson on January 29, 1999, "I don't know [what ever happened to Fred], man. Me and Fred used to hang together...He stayed on Columbus Ave. for a while. I lost contact with him. He moved to Atlanta or somewhere and I haven't heard from him since."
[119] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[120] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[121] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 1999.
[122] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[123] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[124] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[125] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[126] Shields, Del. Liner notes. John Patton: Oh Baby. LP. Blue Note 4192, 1965.
[127] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[128] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[129] Feather, Leonard. Liner notes. George Braith: Soul Stream. LP. Blue Note 84161, 1964.
[130] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[131] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[132] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[133] Patton, John. Personal interview. 29 January 2000.
[134] Green's staccato attack on the Oliphant version of "Soul Woman" is a precursor to the styles of later soul jazz guitar luminaries Jimmy Ponder, Melvin Sparks, and Ivan "Boogaloo Joe" Jones. Sparks incorporated some of Green's lines from this solo intact into his own bag of tricks. The influence of Green is also clear in Ponder's solos on Patton's That Certain Feeling.
[135] Naming a record before it is even recorded is, of course, unusual and this probably did not happen. However, given the arrangements on the record, and particularly the length of the tunes and the solos, it is easy to presume that there was more of a commercial leaning planned for this session than the others Braith, Patton, or Green had done up to that point. Oddly, Braith's next session Musart (Prestige 7515) is probably his most adventurous, and a stark contrast to the commercial elements of Laughing Soul (Prestige 7474).
[136] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[137] Porter, Lewis. John Coltrane: His Life and Music. Ann Arbor, Michigan: University of Michigan Press, 1998.
[138] Ponder, Jimmy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[139] Patton, John. Personal interview. 14 December 1999.
[140] Green, Sharony Andrews. Grant Green: Rediscovering the Forgotten Genius of Jazz Guitar. San Francisco: Miller-Freeman Books, 1999.
[141] Green never used his Muslim name either, and apparently, few people actually knew what it was. It is not included in Sharony Andrews Green's book and Patton, a close friend of Green's from the early 1960's until Green's death in 1979, never knew it either, nor did Ben Dixon.
[142] Dixon, Ben. Personal interview. 30 January 2000.
[143] Patton, John. Personal interview. 14 December 1999.
[144] ibid.
[145] The term is derived from the Islamic term "kufr." An online glossary of Islamic terms compiled by Ishaq Shahid (found at www.crusades.org/selections/Glossary) defines the term. Kufr
..>..> ..> ..>..>..>
Its original meaning is 'to conceal'. This word has been variously used in the Quran to denote: (1) state of absolute lack of faith; (2) rejection or denial of any of the esentials of Islam; (3) attitude of ingratitude and thanklessness to God; and (4) non-fulfilment of certain basic requirements of faith. In the accepted technical sense, kufr consists of rejection of the Divine Guidance communicated through the Prophets and Messengers of God. More specifically, ever since the advent of the last of the Prophets and Messengers, Muhammad (S.A.W.), rejection of his teaching constitutes Kufr.
[146] Braith did not always succeed in this endeavor, as there is an advertisement in the November 10, 1966 Village Voice for him appearing at Slug's in the East Village. Two of Slug's four owners, Robert Schoenholt and Jerry Schultz, were white.
[147] Patton, John. Personal interview. 14 December 1999.
[148] I discussed this situation with Patton during a phone conversation on 15 December 1999. He is certain that his disagreement with Blue Note was directly responsible for some of the sessions remaining unissued for over 25 years.
[149] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[150] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[151] This is drawn from two different interviews, 26 July 1999 and 7 February 2000.
[152] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 15 September 1999.
[153] "Profile: Harold Alexander." Atlantic Records Press Release for Raw Root. 1974.
[154]< SPAN> Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[155] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 Februray 2000.
[156] Zorn, John. Liner notes. John Patton: Boogaloo. CD. Blue Note 31878, 1995.
[157] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[158] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[159] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[160] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[161] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[162] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[163] The fact that three members or former members of Pucho and the Latin Soul Brothers were on the session was pure coincidence. As Alexander said, "I think John brought them over there, because I had nothing to do with it," despite his ties to the group. Patton himself commented, "I didn't really hang with Pucho." Interestingly, Grant Green's groups from the early 1970's also had Pucho alums, keyboardist Neal Creque, vibist Willie Bivens, and tenor saxophonist Claude Bartee. This had led me to believe there was some tie or interaction between the Patton-Green group and Pucho, but it is just coincidence.
[164] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 13 February 2000.
[165] It should be noted that Richard Landrum's conga also complements what is happening, but is buried a bit in the mix, and perhaps in the sound of Brown's one-man percussion section, who at times doubles some of Landrum's playing on his toms.
[166] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[167] What Alexander means by "wide open drums" is perhaps best exemplified by Connors' playing on Sam Rivers live album from 1973, Streams, on Impulse.
[168] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[169] Patton, John. Personal interview. 30 April 1999.
[170] My guess is that the reason the record was not released was because of a few subtle technical flaws in the recording; the congas are not recorded well, there is an ebb and flow with the level of the bass (an interesting effect that is surely unintentional, and not an effect of the Leslie speaker) on "B and J (Two Sisters)," and Alexander makes an entrance off mike. Only subtle detriments to some of Patton's best performances on record.
[171] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[172] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[173] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[174] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[175] Alexander, Harold. Personal interview. 12 February 2000.
[176] Williams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[177] Williams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[178] Williams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[179] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[180] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[181] Williams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[182] Patton, John. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[183] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interviews. 13 February 2000 and 28 September 1999.
[184] George Freeman (b. Chicago, April 10, 1927) is a veteran of the Chicago scene who has performed with a virtual who's who of jazz history, inclucing Charlie Parker, Ben Webster, Sonny Stitt, and virtually every jazz organist, including John Patton in recent years. He, like the aforementioned reedman Harold Alexander, has blended inside and outside styles (bebop, B. B. King and Sonny Sharrock) into his own musical vision and is one of the underappreciated original voices on the instrument.
[185] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 20 February 2000.
[186] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 13 February 2000.
[187] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 20 February 2000.
[188] Williams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[189] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 13 February 2000.
[190] Legend has it that the tenor player on the date is the late George Adams, which would also be his first recording. Again, because of the lack of precise information in the King Records discography, this must be confirmed a different way. Judging from the sound, it is certainly possible.
[191] Patton, John Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[192] Moncur III, Grachan. Personal interview. 29 February 2000.
[193] Patton, John. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[194] There are, of course, innumerable examples of "screaming" on the organ, one of many by Patton himself doing it is on Harold Vick's "Night Flight," from Oh Baby! The idea consists simply of holding one of the highest notes available, sometimes harmonized, other times continuing to play a line with the other fingers while the note is held. This device comes directly out of Jimmy Smith's musical vocabulary and is a favorite of Jack McDuff's and Don Patterson, among many others.
[195] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interviews. 28 September 1999 and 13 February 2000.
[196] Williams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[197] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 22 February 2000.
[198] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 13 February 2000.
[199] Wiliams, Leroy. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[200] Patton, John. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[201] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[202] The rest of the list includes some usual suspects, in order from top to bottom: Jimmy Smith, Shirley Scott, Wild Bill Davis, Don Patterson, Jack McDuff, Basie, Richard "Groove" Holmes, Freddie Roach, and Fischer.
[203] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[204] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[205] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[206] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[207] Patton, John. Personal interview. 23 February 2000.
[208] Patton, John. Personal interview. 26 July 1999.
[209] Cabell, Marvin. Personal interview. 13 February 2000.
[210] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[211] Patton, John. Personal interview. 7 February 2000.
[212] Moncur III, Grachan. Personal interview. 29 February 2000.
[213] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[214] It should be noted that there are many fine drummers, who are quite creative, who are "typical organ drummers;" but who are perhaps not as well publicized because of the aforementioned politics that seem to be present in most writing on organ players. The late Joe Dukes, who played with Jack McDuff, is an example of someone who is underappreciated in this sense, rivalling Art Blakey in raw power and unmatched by anyone in his groove.
[215] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.
[216] Patton, Thelma. Personal interview. 9 February 2000.