Tatum's Dissonant, "Avant Garde" side, Part 2; Astounding 1940s Recordings

And his impact on jazz history.

I am very gratified at the response to my first Tatum post, where I introduced the idea that Tatum was in fact an intensely innovative artist who was confined to playing arrangements of standards because of the realities of building a career and making a living in the 1930s. Usually when I tell people that Tatum was wild, they say “Oh, yes, he played so fast and with such a nice tone!” That is, they have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. So, thank you all for having an open mind. And be prepared to have that mind blown, because the Tatum examples will get more and more “out” in this post and the concluding third one! In the third one I will also present my reasoning as to what we can learn from these recorded excerpts.

Here’s another example of Tatum playing outside the key, this time using chords instead of melody notes: Schuller rightly singles out “Lonesome Graveyard” (sometimes listed as “Lonesome Graveyard Blues”). It comes from one of Tatum’s small-band sessions in June 1941, featuring the blues singer Big Joe Turner and the lyrical trumpeter Joe Thomas (not to be confused with saxophonists with the same name). After the vocal, as Schuller notes, Tatum plays a chorus that clashes intensely with what the other band members are playing! I do not agree with Gunther that this passage was intended to be a guitar feature, but Oscar Moore, who was Nat Cole’s guitarist from 1938 through 1947, does valiantly attempt to duet with Tatum. At 0:44 Tatum plays a more traditional blues ending to set up Turner, who comes back in to finish the performance. Please listen:

(That percussive high note at 0:43 is a Tatum trademark.)

Schuller based his book on the released “master” takes, so he didn’t know that there is a second version. It was labeled take B, which indicates in this case that it was the second choice, a backup in case there was a problem with the preferred “master” from which 78 rpm disks were pressed. (Take numbers mean different things at different companies, and do not always follow the order recorded.) On take B, Tatum plays even more “out,” and Turner doesn’t come back in at all. Instead, Tatum plays a second, more traditional blues chorus to end the tune. My guess is that Turner said “No way can I come in after that!” In fact, here is a tiny interview clip where Joe Turner says that Tatum played “a little too fancy—make it plainer”:

(That clip comes from here, if you’re interested.)

Here is that Take B. This time, I left in more of Turner’s singing before Tatum comes in. Tatum’s first chorus at 0:42 is way out! The second chorus starting at 1:17 is more straightforward, but Tatum still can’t resist inserting some unexpected sounds at 1:27 and at the very end:

The originally released version—the one you heard first—was likely the last one recorded, as was often the case (because once you have a good take, there’s no need to record it again). If so, they may have decided that it simply sounded more complete and well-rounded to come back to the singer at the end. That could also explain why Tatum plays such a clear ending to his chorus in that take. He may have been asked (by the producer, or Turner) to please set up the singer to return.

Let’s hear some more of Tatum’s adventurous side. Just a few months later, in September 1941, Tatum was privately recorded while performing at Minton’s nightclub in Harlem. With trumpeter Frankie Newton and bassist Ebenezer Paul, he played “Sweet Georgia Brown.” And as trumpeter Randy Sandke has written, Tatum begins his solo, at the very beginning of this audio excerpt, with some notes from outside the key. (Musicians, transcribe the solo and share your analysis in the comments.)

At around 1:15 in the track, Tatum begins his third chorus with some percussive and harmonically “out” octaves and trills — one of the few instances when you can clearly hear his connection to Earl Hines. As Schuller notes, although Tatum never mentioned any influences other than Fats Waller and a sophisticated piano stylist named Lee Sims, it’s impossible that Tatum was not influenced by the wild improvisations of Earl Hines. (I’ll write about Hines, one of my all-time favorites, at some point.)

There’s a lot to focus on here—the beginning, the passages at 0:52 and 1:15, etc. Also, notice how Tatum re-harmonizes the song behind the trumpet solo around 2:05— where’s he going?! In fact, throughout Newton’s trumpet solo, Tatum interacts with him in a kind of duet. And when Tatum returns for his second solo at 3:46, he goes "out" again! This is by far the longest audio example in this series, and it’s well worth the nearly 7 minutes of your time. Please listen:

Setting aside this Minton’s jam and the many solo recordings he made, Tatum most often appeared in public in the format that had been established by one of his many protégés, Nat King Cole. This was a trio featuring piano, bass and guitar, which brought Cole huge success before he ever sang on record.

Tatum’s trio recordings rarely display his more experimental side, because they are dominated by carefully rehearsed, complicated arrangements that leave little room for improvisation, much less experimentation. But in 1981, Felicity Howlett wrote an essay for the notes of a Tatum LP (in 1983 she completed a Ph.D. dissertation on Tatum at Cornell University), and one piece she singled out was a live recording by the trio, one of three titles captured in Milwaukee in April 1944. The song is “Exactly Like You,” and in the middle of an otherwise unexceptional performance,  Tatum plays a chorus of right-hand melody that goes in and out of the key — absolutely astounding for a jazz performance in 1944!:

And remember, it’s critical to hear Tatum in the context of his day. In his lifetime, nobody was playing so far out until Lennie Tristano made his first recordings in 1945. Tristano was known to have been influenced by Art, but one can only understand that connection by listening to examples like the ones in this series.

I mentioned in Part 1 that Tatum loved to come up with new chords for existing songs. Certain kinds of melodies (especially very diatonic ones) are inviting settings for substitute harmonies. “Over the Rainbow” was one on which Tatum really stretched out, and “Danny Boy” was another. On this version of the latter from Dec. 21, 1944, listen to what he plays for the second half of the song, starting where the phrase returns, “Oh, Danny Boy.” What is that chord right at the beginning of this excerpt, 0:01-02, under the word “boy”?! And where is he going after that? At 0:27 he settles down, but even then there is a lush dominant chord at 0:32:

Please tell me you hear how far “out” the first few seconds of this excerpt are! You do? Well, you ain’t heard nothing yet, folks! Stay tuned for some even more outrageous audio excerpts in Part 3, where I will also draw some conclusions about Tatum’s impact on jazz history.

All the best,

Lewis