Six Minutes With Satch: You're Driving Me Crazy / The Peanut Vendor
These two sides, both recorded on December 23, 1930, came just weeks after the first real "scandal" that could have potentially derailed Louis Armstrong's career: his arrest for the possession of marijuana in November 1930.
The telling of that story will make up the better part of a chapter in my upcoming book, Heartful of Rhythm: The Big Band Years of Louis Armstrong, so I won't go into details now. Armstrong was released quickly, with a later court date scheduled for March 1931 so he was a free man for now...and went right back to his old habits, as "You're Driving Me Crazy" makes abundantly clear.
Folks, the man on this record is high as a kite....and loving it. This has become one of my sure-fire go-to pieces to play when I give lectures, especially to college students. All you have to do is take a few minutes to upload some other contemporary versions from this period, especially Rudy Vallee's. Then listen to THIS. It sounds like Louis is from another planet (entirely possible), but for the first time, he also shares with us the secret of his success. As the vocal concludes and the band sets him up for a break, Armstrong fills the space by simply repeating two words, imploring his band--and the rest of the world--to, "Swing, swing." A year-and-a-half before Duke Ellington instructed "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing," Armstrong beat him to the punch (with far fewer syllables).
(He also followed by running around the studio, scatting and screaming things like "Lawd Today," something not heard on other Ellington--or Rudy Vallee--records. Oh, and that goes for the "chop suey talk" politically incorrect comedy sketch with Lionel Hampton at the beginning!)
The Les Hite bands swings like mad on "You're Driving Me Crazy" but they tackled a different rhythmic feel on the flip side, Armstrong's version of the Cuban specialty, "El Manisero," better known in English as "The Peanut Vendor." The Hite band sounds a little unsure of itself, Armstrong eschews any trumpet pyrotechnics in favor of playing the melody muted and during the vocal, Armstrong sings to a girl named "Marie," instead of the written "Mani".....Spanish for "peanuts." And don't miss the wild scat interlude where Armstrong, at a loss for words, just starts shouting, "Spanish, Spanish!"
To high-minded critics like Gunther Schuller, Armstrong was "defeated" by "The Peanut Vendor" but like "You're Driving Me Crazy," he sounds like he's having the time of his life. And though it has made very few "Greatest Hits" compilations, contemporary coverage of Armstrong at the time clearly illustrates that this was truly one of his big hits in this period, often mentioned in advertisements and in articles about his band's upcoming performances. And hey, as an early example of proto-Latin Jazz, one could argue that it's a fairly important release, too.
These sides represented Armstrong's final recordings of 1930, a banner year in his discography. But in my opinion, 1931 topped it. We'll begin examining Armstrong's 1931 sides tomorrow!
LOUIS ARMSTRONG AND HIS SEBASTIAN NEW COTTON CLUB ORCHESTRA
Louis Armstrong (tp, voc), McClure Morris, Harold Scott (tp), Luther Craven (tb), Les Hite (as, cond), Marvin Johnson (as), Charlie Jones (cl, ts), Henry Prince (p), Bill Perkins (bj), Joe Bailey (b), Lionel Hampton (d, talk).
OKeh recording session - Los Angeles, CA December 23, 1930
LOUIS ARMSTRONG AND HIS SEBASTIAN NEW COTTON CLUB ORCHESTRA
Louis Armstrong (tp, voc), McClure Morris, Harold Scott (tp), Luther Craven (tb), Les Hite (as, cond), Marvin Johnson (as), Charlie Jones (cl, ts), Henry Prince (p, perc), Bill Perkins (bj), Joe Bailey (b), Lionel Hampton (d, talk).
OKeh recording session - Los Angeles, CA December 23, 1930
YouTube links:
The telling of that story will make up the better part of a chapter in my upcoming book, Heartful of Rhythm: The Big Band Years of Louis Armstrong, so I won't go into details now. Armstrong was released quickly, with a later court date scheduled for March 1931 so he was a free man for now...and went right back to his old habits, as "You're Driving Me Crazy" makes abundantly clear.
Folks, the man on this record is high as a kite....and loving it. This has become one of my sure-fire go-to pieces to play when I give lectures, especially to college students. All you have to do is take a few minutes to upload some other contemporary versions from this period, especially Rudy Vallee's. Then listen to THIS. It sounds like Louis is from another planet (entirely possible), but for the first time, he also shares with us the secret of his success. As the vocal concludes and the band sets him up for a break, Armstrong fills the space by simply repeating two words, imploring his band--and the rest of the world--to, "Swing, swing." A year-and-a-half before Duke Ellington instructed "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing," Armstrong beat him to the punch (with far fewer syllables).
(He also followed by running around the studio, scatting and screaming things like "Lawd Today," something not heard on other Ellington--or Rudy Vallee--records. Oh, and that goes for the "chop suey talk" politically incorrect comedy sketch with Lionel Hampton at the beginning!)
The Les Hite bands swings like mad on "You're Driving Me Crazy" but they tackled a different rhythmic feel on the flip side, Armstrong's version of the Cuban specialty, "El Manisero," better known in English as "The Peanut Vendor." The Hite band sounds a little unsure of itself, Armstrong eschews any trumpet pyrotechnics in favor of playing the melody muted and during the vocal, Armstrong sings to a girl named "Marie," instead of the written "Mani".....Spanish for "peanuts." And don't miss the wild scat interlude where Armstrong, at a loss for words, just starts shouting, "Spanish, Spanish!"
To high-minded critics like Gunther Schuller, Armstrong was "defeated" by "The Peanut Vendor" but like "You're Driving Me Crazy," he sounds like he's having the time of his life. And though it has made very few "Greatest Hits" compilations, contemporary coverage of Armstrong at the time clearly illustrates that this was truly one of his big hits in this period, often mentioned in advertisements and in articles about his band's upcoming performances. And hey, as an early example of proto-Latin Jazz, one could argue that it's a fairly important release, too.
These sides represented Armstrong's final recordings of 1930, a banner year in his discography. But in my opinion, 1931 topped it. We'll begin examining Armstrong's 1931 sides tomorrow!
LOUIS ARMSTRONG AND HIS SEBASTIAN NEW COTTON CLUB ORCHESTRA
Louis Armstrong (tp, voc), McClure Morris, Harold Scott (tp), Luther Craven (tb), Les Hite (as, cond), Marvin Johnson (as), Charlie Jones (cl, ts), Henry Prince (p), Bill Perkins (bj), Joe Bailey (b), Lionel Hampton (d, talk).
OKeh recording session - Los Angeles, CA December 23, 1930
LOUIS ARMSTRONG AND HIS SEBASTIAN NEW COTTON CLUB ORCHESTRA
Louis Armstrong (tp, voc), McClure Morris, Harold Scott (tp), Luther Craven (tb), Les Hite (as, cond), Marvin Johnson (as), Charlie Jones (cl, ts), Henry Prince (p, perc), Bill Perkins (bj), Joe Bailey (b), Lionel Hampton (d, talk).
OKeh recording session - Los Angeles, CA December 23, 1930
YouTube links:
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