Audio : July, 1957
Charles A. Robertson

Of the many problems facing a new recording company in the jazz field, good engineering is the one most likely to be solved last, unless someone involved in the proceedings has more than a passing acquaintance with the value of good sound. So the first products of the small firm, with the exception of those started by audio specialists, usually range from bad to adequate. Rarely are they acclaimed for outstanding balance and other sonic virtues in the early stages of their existence. One such rarity is Dawn Records. It solved this problem in its first year, even to the satisfaction of those jazz lovers who regard such qualities as secondary to the music.

A happy meeting between Chuck Darwin, producer for the new label, and Dave Hancock, independent recording engineer, brought about this turn of events early in its history. At that time, Hancock was mainly occupied in cutting masters for a number of clients and extensive recording of folk-music artists. Ken Goldstein, a producer of one of these dates, recommended him to Darwin. The ensuing association results in a series of jazz discs with outstanding sound. The Sims‘ is the sixth to be released.

Most commendation is being attracted by The Kid From Denver, DLP-1109, featuring Paul Quinichette and nine musicians drawn mostly from the Count Basie band. With a brass section of Thad Jones, Reunald Jones, and Joe Newman, trumpets, and Henry Coker, trombone, all the power of a big band is captured despite hall limitations. In solos the Quinichette tenor insinuates its way over the background, rather than seemingly suddenly to leap from the loudspeaker as so many solo instruments do when improperly spotted. The rhythm section is held in balance, never obscured in ensembles, nor permitted to override the soloists. The drums are kept in correct perspective, and the whole session swings with some capable arranging and writing by leader Ernie Wilkins and Manny Albam.

It was enough to prompt a request to visit the thirty-year-old engineer in his home on the upper West Side of Manhattan in the hope that he might expound on some of the methods behind his work, and on the recording scene in general. He has definite opinions – unfortunately, not all are printable in this family magazine. He has the benefit of three years piano study at Julliard to aid him in transferring a performance to tape. This was completed in 1950, with the help of the G.I. Bill due to service in the Air Force. By then, as he stated the case, “It was evident that I did not have the psychology or talent necessary to become a concert pianist. Also, the way of life which such a career entails had lost its appeal. Teaching did not interest me much. I had been absorbed in electronics as a hobby for several years and it seemed to offer me a better living.

“I was fortunate enough to be able to serve a two-year apprenticeship with Péter Bartók. There is no way I can express my gratitude for what he taught me. He has done some fine things on his own label and up at M.I.T. for Unicorn. We still trade information and are ready to help each other out when necessary.”

When he set up in business on his own, he soon found his four-room apartment was becoming hopelessly overcrowded. Activities were shifted to a four-story house where the neighbors are less likely to be disturbed. His equipment is distributed about a large front room on the second floor. Much of it he constructed himself, or has adapted to fit the requirements of the practicing engineer. The ceiling is treated with a covering of cardboard egg containers. A twelve-inch Wharfedale speaker is sued with a JansZen electrostatic for monitoring.

“I have a great deal of respect for G.A. Briggs,” he said, “not only as a technician, but as a philosopher. His thinking about sound is similar to mine and I have corresponded with him. It is not that of the button-pusher, who has the feeing that the newest and shiniest is always best. I use a modified lathe with a turntable made by Fred Van Eps and a Grampian cutter head. If I can find the time, I would like to develop my own cutter head. The Danes seem to be quite proud of a new one called the Ortofon and we can’t let them get ahead of us.”

Easily the most distinctive and newsworthy pieces of his equipment are two RCA 44A (MI-3026A) ribbon microphones. These have been considered obsolete for some time. A letter went to the RCA service department last September brought the reply that no replacement parts were available as they had not been manufactured for twenty years.

Hancock justifies their use with the statement: “I had long thought the ribbon microphone had not been developed to its full extent and was in some respects more desirable than others. Tests made during recording sessions confirmed its pleasant acoustical properties and I set about improving the bass response. A different ribbon, magnet, and transformer were installed to reinforce the two extremities of frequency range. I recently took them down to Camden, NJ, to test them in the RCA anechoic chamber against their laboratory standard microphone. The charts show superior performance below 50 and above 10,000 cps, and RCA was interested enough to keep one for their files. From my experience with it, I am convinced the ribbon microphone is a inherently a better design than the condenser, and its optimum performance, both from the standpoint of distortion and frequency response, is superior to the condenser microphone at its optimum.

“On jazz dates, I use one for the rhythm section and another for the rest of the band, recording the original tape with a modified Ampex 350. This permits the drummer to operate without constraint. I like musicians to play their instruments. My main trouble is with some of the modern pianists who sort of skitter over the keys. The controls are not touched after a balance is struck, but I like to accent soloists by having them move in one step on the mike.

“The tricks of the trade are in knowing what to do with a soggy bass and how to set up for various halls. Most of my work is done in Carl Fischer Hall, Steinway Concert Hall, or Carnegie Recital Hall. None of them is acoustically perfect, and the peculiarities of shape and characteristics of reverberation can upset the novice. I have seen the faces of musicians fall on arriving for a date and learned they previously had unfortunate experiences in that particular hall, even to the point of calling everything off and walking out. I try to be reassuring, but often it takes the finished product to convince them.

“The Quinichette date went well because the leader is musically aware and the men all good instrumentalists who knew what they were going to do and did it. A jazz date is approached with the same care I give to one of a classical nature. Péter Bartók and I believe it is easier to make a good recording of a symphony orchestra than a string quartet. This may seem contrary to the popular feeling about sound on LPs where more chamber work has been done successfully than symphonies. But it is a frame of mind that allows me to handle a big band without much trouble.”

Other companies Hancock has done recording or mastering for are Caedmon, Folkways, Period, Prestige, Tradition, and Vanguard. Also both jazz and some of the classical items for the highly recommended Music Minus One. “One of the things that pleases me in the association with Dawn is that the entire sound operation is up to me,” he stated. “I do the recording, editing, and mastering. It offsets one of the disadvantages of the independent in that he often has to work with other people’s tape. But in the larger companies, the same engineer rarely follows the whole process through. I think it gives the engineer considerable satisfaction to be responsible for everything, even though he may not be given a credit line on the label.”

Another company using Hancock is Elektra as it expands into the jazz field. According to its head, Jac Holzman: “Dave has shown us the virtues of the ribbon microphone. We used them on our two latest recordings of the New York Jazz Quartet and the Jazz Messengers. We intend to use him on our stereophonic dates to operate one tape machine while our Leonard Ripley handles the other.”

As a pianist, Hancock is most appreciative of someone of the caliber of Art Tatum in jazz. His real love is for classical chamber works and he would like the chance to record more of it. He recently tape the former Benny Goodman pianist Mel Powell with a chamber group in classical works of his own composition. “I admire Mel both as a person and as a musician,” he said. “His career in jazz was well established when he abandoned it to study with Hindemith at Yale. Though he must have met with discouragements, he stuck at composing. I think these pieces will show that the effort was not wasted.”

Canadian-born Chuck Darwin is in charge of Dawn, an offshoot of Seeco, a company devoted mostly to Latin-American music. In outlining his aims, he said: “I intend to keep moving in a forward direction and to continue to record distinctive sounds, whether modern or otherwise. Before coming to New York five years ago, I had my own company in Montreal and in my experience Hancock is an engineer par excellence. The amount of planning for each session varies with the type of album. The hardest part is getting the right musicians in the studio at the right time. And then a great deal depends on how they feel. The latest Mat Matthews was designed for the mood music audience, but the men liked the tunes so much they ended up doing some unusual things with them.”

The first album to be recorded for Hancock for Dawn is The Modern Art of Jazz (Vol. 2), DLP-1104, featuring Mat Matthews, Art Farmer, Gigi Gryce, Julius Watkins and Kenny Clarke. It was singled out by the New York Times as “one of the best jazz LPs of the year.” Oscar Pettiford turns from bass to cello for an engaging duo with the accordion in one of the unique instrumental combinations found on this disc.

Net is I’ll Take Romance, DLP-1105, in which Donna Brooks sings with the Alex Smith trio. A Message from Garcia, DLP-1106, is arranged by Dick Garcia, long connected with Tony Scott and winner of a Down Beat poll award as new guitar star. He is joined by a quartet, and a trio including pianist Bill Evans. Jazzville Vol. 2, offers the trombonists Frank Rehakand Melba Liston in a blowing session, along with a group led by Alex Smith. Then comes the Quinichette disc.

The current addition to the series stems from the ambition of Zoot Sims to have his own group, after fifteen years of playing for others. With Jerry Lloyd on trumpet and pianist John Williams, he formed a quintet in 1956 to tour the club circuit. It was widely complimented, but the seasonal nature of the business, and its economic trials, left it stranded. On this reunion, Kansas City’s Gus Johnson, formerly with the Basie band, is drummer and Bill Anthony shares duties on bass with Nabil Totah.

A lively The Purple Cow is an original by Williams. Lloyd provides a soulful How Now Blues and the up-tempo The Big Stampede. Al Cohn‘s Jerry’s Jaunt goes at a fast clip in the Basie manner. Sims is heard on alto in Stampede, and in the standards Too Close for Comfort and You’re My Girl. He shows his most lyric side on tenor in the mellow musings of the ballad Ill Wind. Everyone has a chance to exhibit technical virtuosity in the complexities of Monk’s Bye Ya.

Prepared to show the varied aspects of the unit at its best, the program is scattered with riches. Whether they are distributed too widely will depend on the tastes of the listener, but he should not have to wait too long for something of interest. One of the most vital tenormen since his Woody Herman days, Sims has never stopped developing. During a recent trip to Europe, he acquired his alto and is busy exploring its possibilities. This is the third album in as many months to display his prowess. They should serve as a lever to set him up on his own.

Because two of the tracks were made during an expedition to the Doris Duke estate, the liner does not bear the Hancock name as engineer. In these, Totah substitutes for Anthony on bass, and comparison will show that he was not placed right. The six remaining numbers were made at Carl Fischer Hall, with all the niceties of balance maintained.

—–

Billboard : 05/20/1957
Score of 79

The best of the more recent Sims sax showcases, but still not up to artist’s previous packages which co-featured B. Brookmeyer. Sims’ name, his strong tenor and improved alto, plus clever cover will make this a better than average jazz seller. Try You’re My Girl with alto, or How Now Blues with tenor.

—–

Pasadena Independent
George Laine : 08/03/1957

When Zoot, who has been conspicuous by his recording absence, goes to Jazzville, you may drop whatever you are doing and follow along. Here is Zoot, stronger, with more to say, than at any time I’ve heard him since the early days with Herman. There are a couple of things here (Monk‘s Bye Ya, and John Williams‘ Purple Cow) that show the thinking of Sims off well and another thing, You’re My Girl, that is well on its way to becoming the most-played thing I currently own. It’s a gassy album and if you miss it you’ll regret it.

—–

Pittsburgh Courier
Harold L. Keith : 07/27/1957

Zoot Sims makes a refreshing double=debut on Dawn with his new combo and his alto saxophone.

The Sims alto is by no means reminiscence of his tenor for he plays in a context that is decidedly different from the Lester Young overtones which characterize his work. About the only piece on the album in which one can detect the “Youngisms” upon which Zoot has so heavily predicated his style is Jerry’s Jaunt.

Jerry’s Jaunt is another of those takeoffs on Stuffy, a Jim Mundy opus made famous by the “Bean” (Coleman Hawkins) and the Count Basie Quintet of yore. With Zoot on these tracks are the members of his newly organized combo including Nabil Totah, John Williams, Bill Anthony, Jerome Lloyd, and Gus Johnson, who sounds a good deal like Big Sid Catlett on drums. The group is heard to best advantage on Bye Ya the Thelonious Monk composition and Ill Wind.

—–

Saturday Review
Martin Williams : 10/12/1957

On Too Close for Comfort lines flow out of Sims‘ tenor sax with ease and assurance, and Ill Wind and Stampede nearly maintain the peak. On five other tracks, he is too often wondering what to say next or content to repeat platitudes.

—–

Windsor Star
Matt Dennis : 10/12/1957

In the world of jazz Zoot Sims has been recognized for some time as a discriminating artist and more respect comes his way through a new quality long-play Zoot Sims Goes to Jazzville. Playing both alto and tenor sax, Sims displays sensitive feeling. He shines on alto on You’re My Girl, The Big Stampede and Too Close for Comfort. Jerome Lloyd, John Williams, Bill Anthony and Gus Johnson back Sims and the entire waxing is a prime example of top flight jazzmen playing in an enthusiastic manner the brand of music they live and enjoy.

—–

Down Beat : 09/19/1957
Don Gold : 4 stars

Zoot Sims is an habitué of the garden of soul. He plays with sensitive feeling and drive here on both alto and tenor. His alto work on Girl, Stampede, and Comfort is as fluent and impressive as his tenor efforts on the other tracks.

His is assisted ably here by Lloyd‘s compatible horn and Williams piano, plus the constant support from reliable Johnson and bassists Totah and Anthony. Unfortunately, at times poor recording balance deprives Williams of equality.

Sims, it seems to me, has become one of the individual voices in the jazz reed realm. His influence on tenor should be realized by more of those populating the world of that instrument, because he has much to say and says it with unqualified honesty and taste. Concerning the validity of his work on alto, merely listen to Girl for a definition of swing.

Sims more than deserves the record exposure he is getting today. This LP reinforces his stature as a major jazz instrumentalist.

—–

Liner Notes by Gary Kramer

Almost all of the 15-odd years that Zoot Sims has been out on the jazz scene, he has had a strong desire to have his own group. For a brief period in 1956, he did. With his friends Jerry Lloyd and John Williams in key chairs, Zoot put together a quintet that, if there were any justice in the world, should have made a nice splash. The group bowed at the Greenwich Village boite, The Bohemia, and went on to gigs in Philadelphia, Cleveland and Detroit. Critics found much to compliment them on, and the customers, from all accounts, received them more than generously.

Jazz, today, for all its new vitality and mass appeal, is still subject to economic vagaries that thwart many a seemingly sound, logical plan. Certainly, Zoot was at a new peak of personal popularity just after coming back from the highly publicized European tour of Gerry Mulligan in 56. And his playing was never better. He had served a long apprenticeship in big bands in the Forties (Bobby Sherwood, Benny Goodman, Sid Catlett, Woody Herman, etc.) and lent a distinguished hand to several top-notch combos on both coasts later on. Several outstanding LPs had also helped to establish Zoot’s name with the rank and file. The stars seemed to be in a favorable conjunction for Sims to step out on his own.

The friendship of Zoot Sims and Jerry Lloyd dates back to Zoot’s “Four Brothers” period with the Woody Herman band (1947-49). It was a time of excitement and ferment, to which the Herman band was adding a kick or two of its own. Jerry Lloyd (original name: Jerry Hurwitz), a well-schooled trumpeter a few years older than Zoot, had been around New York throughout the war years, and played in numerous big bands (Georgie Auld, Buddy Rich, Johnny Morris). He had an immediate attraction to the innovations taking place in jazz at that time, and began working in the new style from the outset.

The “new” jazz never was played in many spots; such as there were around New York, were off the beaten track and were not overly commercial in character. Jerry thinks that his friendship with Zoot developed out of his usefulness in steering Zoot to the nightclubs and studios where the avant-garde collected. Diz, Miles, Brew Moore and George Wallington were some of the other habitués of these places that Jerry hobnobbed with in those days.

John Williams, a New Englander, first was active on the New York scene around 1949. Much of the wind had been taken out of the sails of the “bop” movement by that time, and a kind of hardening set in. Williams’ percussive keyboard style won him immediate favor with the jazz experimenters about Manhattan, but it took the passing of a few years’ time and a change in the musical climate to give John the general recognition that has come to him the past three years. Zoot long ago found John’s approach closely relate to his own, and has worked with him a great deal recently. A notable example of their compatibility is on Dawn LP 1102, The Modern Art of Jazz (with Bob Brookmeyer).

Drummer Gus Johnson was also on the Sims-Brookmeyer-Williams date and is a seasoned veteran. Through the thirties, he played in a variety of local Kansas City bands, including Jay McShann‘s aggregation when it numbered Charlie Parker among its members. He was in Earl Hines‘ last big band, and in 1948 took Jo Jones‘ chair in Count Basie’s band and was associated with the Count through the end of 1954. Bass duties here were divided between Nabil Totah, most recently identified with the Cy Coleman Trio, and Bill Anthony, alumnus of the Jimmy Dorsey band and others. (Totah is heard on Jerry’s Jaunt and How Now Blues).

The program prepared by Zoot is of great interest. It consists mainly of original material, plus some unorthodox handling of a couple of not-overly-familiar standards. Zoot’s taste is on the eclectic side; quality and variety distinguish his attempt to be “different” here. Noteworthy is Sim’s increasing facility on alto, an instrument that he has been playing more and more frequently since his return from Europe last year. When people ask Zoot about his taking up alto, he simply says that he was able to latch on to a beautiful horn cheap while in Europe, and now that he’s got it, he’s got to play it. Whatever the reason, Zoot proves in this set that he has plenty to say on the instrument. He is heard on alto in You’re My Girl, Stampede, and Too Close for Comfort.

Collector’s of Zoot’s records will probably agree that his playing is acquiring a mellower quality, and that the heart and feeling displayed in most of the selections of this LP gives another dimension to his appeal. There are the tricky, carefully contoured virtuoso pieces of the past, like Bye Ya, the Thelonious Monk composition, true, but his solo in Ill Wind has the kind of soul you would expect of say, a Ben Webster.

Zoot and Jerry and John, for all the modernity of their vocabulary, have ties to the past that avert themselves here. This may be in disguise, as in How Now Blues, which is not an old-style “down home” blues, but a blues nevertheless, with roots that go deep down. However, in Jerry’s Jaunt it is an unabashed romp, honestly Basie-inspired, with no holds barred. Prez has been one of the strongest influences on all these musicians, by their own admission, and while that has its technical aspect, Prez’ final contribution lies in the field of emotional communication and expression. The latter qualities are conspicuous assets of this scene in Jazzville.