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WHAT
IS SWING?
From Bill Treadwell's "Big Book of Swing" published in
1946.
This
is indeed the $64,000 question of popular music.
The
proof, to coin a phrase, is in the pudding.
Finding
a hen's tooth ... or taking a message to Garcia ... or rolling a peanut
up Pike's Peak with your nose - these are all child's play compared to
getting a definition of the most debated word in jazz that will make everybody
happy. To date, most definitions of Swing have received wholehearted approval
from their authors only.
As Cootie Williams, the hot jazz stylist, has said: "Define it? I'd
rather tackle Einstein's theory!"
We
can begin our inquiry by taking the historical, sometimes known as the
least hysterical, approach. There is reason to believe, although there
are plenty who won't, that the term was first used many long years ago
by Louis Armstrong, the old master of the trumpet. When leading his boys,
he would frequently call upon them to accentuate the positive on certain
numbers. He would then exclaim, "Swing out!"
It
could be. It could be not.
But, be it as it may, the fireworks really got to popping back in 1935.
Critics and writers almost reached the hair-tearing point in an attempt
to settle on a meaning for Swing. It seems that two gentlemen, Riley and
Farley by name, had a band playing at the Onyx Club in New York; and one
fine day they upped and composed that daffy hit tune, "The Music
Goes Round and Round." Everyone remembers how the music was going
round and round that year.
Jack
Egan, the puckish manager and publicist for the band, added his fuel to
the fire:
"You can blame me for all the confusion on the definition of Swing,"
says Egan. "When we pushed the tune up to where it was a sensation
and the whole country was singing it New Year's Eve, December 31st, 1935,
the papers began yelling for stories. In one day, I gave out big feature
stories over the phone to every New York daily and a few syndicates and
news services. Each one would ask who Riley and Farley were. I'd answer
they had a small Swing band at the Onyx Club. Then they'd want to know
what a Swing band was. I'd say it was band that played Swing. Then they'd
ask me, 'What's Swing?' and I'd try to answer. I had no prepared material,
so each time I'd give as a definition the first thing that popped into
my head, make it very involved, and lo and behold, every paper had a different
explanation of what Swing was. That started a big controversy, a controversy
that did more to publicize Swing music than the guys who played it."
However,
"the guys who play it" have their own ideas about the meaning
of THE WORD.
For
instance, there's his royal eminence Benny Goodman, the "King of
Swing", who sees it as a "free speech in music." "The
most important element in Swing," declares Benny, "is improvisation-the
liberty a soloist has to stand and play a chorus in the way he feels it,
instead of the way in which it was written, a liberty never given any
musician in classical performances. That is why I say Swing is genuinely
American. It's the expression of an individual -a kind of free speech
in music. It's the democratic privilege of rising from a storekeeper to
President."
While
not disagreeing in the least, of course, Tommy Dorsey, that Sentimental
Gentleman, sees it this way.. "Jazz was modern music in its infancy
and Swing is the infant grown up with all the vigor of eight to the bar
come of age. Zestful, reflecting life's present-day tempo, Swing is sweet
and hot at the same time and broad enough in its creative conception to
meet, every challenge tomorrow may present."
Harry
James, the jitterbug idol who is some- times known as Betty Grable's husband
and who is reported to have a secret craving for classical music, offers
a straight matter-of- fact explanation without any fancy trimmings: "Swing
is improvised music, arranged and played in the various styles of big
time bands."
Johnny
Desmond, former vocalist with the late and beloved Major Glenn Miller's
Army Air Force Band, contributes this thought to the general merry mixup:
"Swing is a combination of simple melodic lines written against a
rhythmical background and played in many variations of a single theme."
All
right, now? Take a deep breath and here we go again.
Ella
Fitzgerald, a gal who sings a mean Swing, waves aside the details and
boils it all down to this simple statement: "Jazz or Swing -it's
all the same as long as it has that beat."
We
encounter the rare phenomenon of agreement between Barry Wood, radio singing
star, and W. C. Handy, famed author of the "St. Louis Blues."
They're pretty much of the same mind. Says Barry: "Swing is the sophisticated
evolution of ragtime, jazz and blues. All four are essentially in the
same family." Says Handy. "Swing is the latest term for ragtime,
jazz and blues. You white folks just have a new word for our old-fashioned
hot music."
But
if these definitions do not leave us sufficiently confused, we can take
a gander at some selections from the school of thought that sees Swing
and jazz as synonymous terms.
Maurice
Rocco, boogie-woogie pianist who gives out standing up, holds that "Jazz-and
that's what we're talking about when you mention Swing-is just a matter
of personal opinion. It depends on the guy in the audience and how he
responds. Now Duke Ellington- his music is so distinctive that everyone
accepts it as jazz, which it always is. Jazz is music with feeling - and
if the listener has that same feeling he calls it jazz."
Orchestra
leader George Auld feels that "Swing is good American jazz being
continuously redressed in name."
And
adds Cootie Williams: "Any kind of music, even the modern classics,
can be tagged as jazz. All it needs is deep feeling and a rhythmic free-flowing
series of musical tones. The performing artist makes the difference. He
can play any piece, arranged or improvised, and if he puts his heart and
soul in it, that's jazz or Swing, call it what you will."
We
could go on. And on. But we would travel only further along the Road To
No- where. What is Swing? Perhaps the best answer, after all, was supplied
by the hepcat who rolled her eyes, stared into the far-off and sighed,
"You can feel it, but you just can't explain it. Do you dig me?"
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