Sonny Rollins and Sonny Clark: Unissued Outtakes, 2 (+Bonus)

(Paying Subscribers, a book of almost 200 pages of Sonny Clark transcriptions is below as a bonus for you.)

In a previous essay (see the Index) we learned some details of how Riverside albums were recorded, and we listened to the first unissued items, takes of “Just In Time,” from the only session that ever paired Sonny Rollins with the fine pianist Sonny Clark. The other musicians are Percy Heath (bass), and Roy Haynes (drums). The next song to be recorded during the early morning hours of June 12, 1957 was “Ev’rytime We Say Goodbye.” (That’s how it’s written on Cole Porter’s 1944 sheet music, but you will sometimes see the word “Every” spelled out.) This is just about always done as a slow song. But Rollins came up with an arrangement of it as a medium-tempo swinger. The first takes are about 150 b.p.m. (beats per minute) on the metronome. (We owe thanks to James Accardi, who is knowledgeable about jazz and about old audio, for removing some hiss and making improvements to the speed and pitch of these files.)

On Take 1, they only get through about 10 measures before they have to stop. A short fragmentary take like this, that doesn’t get past the beginning, is usually called a “false start” (FS). Here is Take 1:

It’s the engineer’s choice whether to consider that false start a take, or to say “Take 1” again. As you will hear below, engineer Jack Higgins chooses to call the next one Take 2. But this one only gets a few measures further before it comes to a halt, and Haynes then adjusts something on the drums. So, here’s Take 2:

Take 3 has a fine solo by Rollins, but suddenly he says “Just stop there, man.” We don’t know why, but what Clark plays at 2:39 does clash with the saxophonist’s line, so perhaps that’s the reason. A take like this that has gone pretty far, and is much more than a false start, is simply called an Incomplete Take (Inc or NC). Here’s Take 3:

The next one, Take 4, is just a little faster, around 160 bpm. It could be that during Take 3, Rollins realized that he wanted it to be faster, and that could be why he cut off that take. Again, Sonny is well into an excellent solo when he calls it to a halt. There is some discussion but it’s not audible. Here is Take 4:

For Take 5, Rollins tries a different arrangement. (Often the producer, who is there along with the engineer, has input into arrangements as well.) The tempo is quite a bit faster, around 190 bpm. Rollins improvises for only one chorus, and this time Clark does not play behind him at all. In later years Rollins has said that he felt “boxed in” by the chords that pianists played, so this could have been what was bothering him before, and if so, now we hear his solution—no piano. Take 5 is a complete take, and a good one:

The remaining take 6 is the Master Take, the one that was on the album. It uses the same arrangement as Take 5. Because it’s from the album, it has gone through the mixing process, and the sound is excellent. But there is something seriously wrong here during the piano solo, which I’ll explain after you listen. First, here is the Master Take:

Rollins and Roy Haynes sound great. But evidently, there was some problem during Clark’s piano solo—perhaps something as simple as, he didn’t feel good about what he played. They didn’t want to record yet another take, so they decided they’d splice in the piano solo from Take 5 later. Unfortunately, the person who did the splicing—almost certainly engineer Jack Higgins—seriously screwed up. Go back and try to count the measures from the beginning of the piano solo: 1,2,3,4, 2,2,3,4,, etc. It’s impossible. But why?

On Take 5, Haynes crashes a cymbal at 1:30 to mark the end of the sax solo. But he does not do that on Take 6 (also at 1:30), so to avoid that crash, Higgins took the first few seconds from the existing piano solo on Take 6, and then spliced into the Take 5 solo—but he did that without regard for the bar structure of the piece! It drives me crazy trying to count it, but there appear to be two beats missing. By the second phrase of the song, at 1:41 on Take 6, the ear adjusts, but only because one forgets the mess that preceded it. And this is what was issued!

At the end of the piano solo on Take 5, there is an overlap where the sax and piano both play together, so the engineer continued to use Take 5 until the short drum solo, which is different from Take 5. You can compare above by jumping between the two takes—it’s easy to do because the timings are identical. The Master is identical to Take 5 from about 1:34—after the first few seconds of the piano solo—until the drum solo begins at 2:22. Then it’s back to Take 6 for Sonny’s final theme statement. But we’re not done with editing yet, because subscriber Nick Fraser noticed that the ending vamp after the theme, about the last 30 seconds, is taken from Take 5. (The number in such a case is sometimes given as Take 5/6, meaning that it’s spliced from both takes.)

And what about the piano solo from Take 6? Unfortunately, in those days one had to actually cut recording tape with a scissors to remove a solo, and, although one could wind it onto another reel and save it, it was common to simply throw that piece right into the trash, which likely happened in this case—especially if Clark didn’t like what he played. The same is true of the ending vamp from Take 6.

It’s fascinating to study how such a recording is created—and along the way we’ve heard some great music. I hope you agree. We’ll continue studying the unheard outtakes from this enjoyable and somewhat overlooked session soon.

All the best,
Lewis

P.S. We owe thanks to James Accardi, who is knowledgeable about jazz and about old audio, for removing some hiss and making improvements to the speed and pitch of these files.

P.P.S. Paying Subscribers, a book of Sonny Clark transcriptions is below as a bonus for you.