Nat "King" Cole's first "live" recording—Great Piano in 1941

In other essays, we’ve mentioned Jerry Newman (1918-1970), the Columbia University student who used to go up to Harlem in the early 1940s and record the performances on disks. Perhaps 10 hours of those recordings have been issued over the years, mostly in the 1970s and early 1980s by Don Schlitten on his Xanadu and Onyx labels. But Newman eventually sold off his original disks. They ended up among a group of Scandinavian collectors, and there are still a few hours unissued. Today we’ll hear an amazing example, unearthed by the late Norwegian researcher and discographer Jan Evensmo (1939-2024), who I spent time with on his visits to New York City. Jan discussed this in his Nat Cole booklet, which is online as a free PDF (along with about 200 other artist booklets—see my essay on jazz reference sources).

James Accardi shared this track from Jan with us, and worked to get it sounding as good as possible, and at the right pitch (concert C—thanks to Nick Rossi for alerting us to that). He tells its story here:

Jan Evensmo passed away on February 4, 2024. I had the great privilege of working closely with him for over thirteen years. From the outset of the relationship one of our primary concerns was preservation of rare and/or unissued recordings—and that concern grew amplified as the years passed. In 2012 we began working on cataloging and preserving the Jerry Newman acetates that Jan and several of his friends bought back in the 1970s from Bob Altshuler, a collector who was an executive at Columbia Records. This particular recording was among the items purchased by Norwegian trumpeter Per Borthen, who passed away in March of 2023. Jan’s generous personality was familiar to many of us. I miss my friend Jan very much, and I am grateful to Lewis for providing a vehicle for this giving spirit to live on. 

Guitarist and jazz historian Nick Rossi notes that from mid-June through mid-August 1941, Nat Cole and his trio, on their first visit to New York, were appearing at Kelly's Stable on 52nd Street. For at least part of that time, they were sharing the bill with Billie Holiday (performing separately). Nick offers this New York Daily News ad from June 21, 1941, which shows that every evening also featured singer Billy Daniels, trumpeter/singer “Hot Lips” Page, and the club's regular host, singer-dancer Taps Miller (for whom a Basie number was later titled). At some point during the engagement violinist Stuff Smith was also on the bill. Probably Page’s group accompanied Holiday and Daniels:

In the early 1940s, Minton’s was of course an important meeting place for young musicians, partly because Monk was the regular “house” pianist there. But it wasn’t the only such place in Harlem. Another center was Monroe's Uptown House at 198 West 134th Street. Newman recorded at both venues, and on July 10, 1941, at Monroe’s, he managed to capture an extended performance of Nat “King” Cole on the song “I Surrender Dear.” This is the earliest known “live” recording of Cole, and like most of his early work, it is completely instrumental, with the focus on his excellent piano playing.

We have previously heard some of Cole’s exciting and highly influential piano work. He is accompanied by the well-known bassist John Simmons, who gets a featured “walking” spot, and the unknown drummer Walter Green. (Remember, this was a jam session context, so Green could have been someone sitting in.) Cole starts this song at a slow tempo, fitting for this type of romantic ballad, but then the tempo is doubled at 1:35. Notice his adventurous chords—like those of Art Tatum, one of his inspirations— at 4:45 to 5:00 and at 7:16 until the end. Here goes:

This song was usually performed as a romantic ballad ever since Bing Crosby had his first solo hit with it in 1931 (although that complicated arrangement has some fast passages). In fact, you may recall that we studied an amazing version by Roy Eldridge. And on the day that Tatum and Cole both played at an unissued jam session, in 1942, Art performed this tune. But I don’t know of a vocal version of this song by Cole. He did record it again as a piano instrumental in 1955, even though he was a huge singing star by that time. Online you can listen to the 1955 take originally issued, and an alternate take as well. These performances are in the traditional slow ballad tempo, much more subdued than at Monroe’s. And, of course, they too are well worth hearing.

Thank you Jan—and James and Nick!

All the best,
Lewis