Dinah

Driving home the other day, I listened to an old cassette. It’s a little stretched now so takes time to reel in the slack enough to operate at the correct speed, and the crackles are becoming more noticeable, but I tolerate its shortcomings because the tape contains a prime example of what I believe to be perfect jazz.

The track is by the Lionel Hampton Orchestra and is titled “Dinah.” I actually have two versions of the number, both recorded on the same day, 21 December 1939 in New York. The line up is Hampton (vib), Benny Carter (tp), Edmond Hall (cl), Coleman Hawkins (ts), Joe Sullivan (p), Freddie Green (g), Artie Bernstein (b) and Zutty Singleton (d). The lesser version is superb and was originally issued on the Victor Label 26557/Master BS 046024-1. Take 2, however, is perfection personified.

This, of course, does provoke the debate “What is perfect jazz?” That I can’t answer. The subject is too subjective and probably anyway demands the expertise of a musicologist to expound meaningfully. But I can explain why Take 2 of “Dinah” is perfect to my inexpert ear.

After an initial couple of bars from Hampton’s vibraphone, it explodes with three simple notes from the trumpet. The tone and exhilaration of that triplet bursts into the senses like rifle fire and brings goose pimples to the flesh of my arm. Benny Carter is better know for his saxophone work, but his opening solo on “Dinah” proves he was of equal measure on both instruments. This is the most awakening and scintillating opening chord of any jazz track I know, including Armstrong’s “West End Blues.”

The improvisation is a perfect example of how to take a well-known theme and weave something wonderfully creative and new without completely losing all traces of the original melody. Carter starts the track spinning, Coleman Hawkins on tenor picks up the thread beautifully and Hampton himself maintains the flow. The entire 2 minutes 36 seconds is tightly-packed and perfectly co-ordinated with each and every instrumentalist fully understanding (and demonstrating) what jazz generally, and this number in particular, is all about.

The number swings. I use that term a lot. I don’t mean to imply that good jazz MUST necessarily swing, but this one has the added bonus of not just swing, but drive as well. It scoots along rhythmically at a pace to outrun a cheetah yet never flags, never tires. Muscle is provided by the steady pound of drum, guitar and bass, in their background way exhorting the melody instruments to excel. And their efforts are rewarded by success. Foot-tapping is not mandatory; it’s ineluctable.

The ebullience is heightened when the band begins to riff behind the vibraphone solo. The repeated refrain never dominates but simply underscores the efforts of the band’s leader, lending perfect support to the outflow of originality as his solo progresses. A good riff is a thing of great artistic beauty. This is the Mona Lisa of all riffs. The excitement mounts as all musicians bend into the recording with every kinetic ounce of their gargantuan skill

These are masters of their instruments. Each and every one can probably hear the sounds in their heads a fraction of a second before they replicate the note with absolute perfection. All instinctively know what the others have in their minds, some innate sense allowing them to anticipate where the rest of the band members are headed. The result is perfect harmony and co-ordination. I freely admit I am in a layman’s awe of the art of the jazz instrumentalist.

Because the track is less than 3 minutes long, it doesn’t have time to start to jade like so many post-LP jazz numbers. It says what it has to say, no more or less, in a forthright and succinct way and, having said it, comes to a striding and confident end, leaving the listener slightly breathless, exhilarated and wishing for more of the same.

Listen to “Dinah.” It’s one of my nominations for the honorific of “perfect jazz.”