Parkeology 006: Lazy Bird

I’d learned the scale and I learned how to play two tunes in the key of D. I learned to play the first eight bars of “Lazy River” and I knew the complete tune to “Honeysuckle Rose.” I didn’t never stop to think about there was other keys or nothing like that! – Charlie Parker – 1950 Stearns interview

This is the punchline to Bird’s story of getting laughed off the bandstand in Kansas City, sometime around 1934, as told in the Stearns interview. It’s worth noting that Bird was capable of grammatically flawless English when the occasion called for it. Although the interview was awkward at times, it seems Bird felt relaxed enough to drop his mid-Atlantic accent in favor of some triple-negatives.

Bird went on to say, “I knew then it must be figured out some kind of way,” and that was no joke. Did “some kind of way” mean practicing Honeysuckle Rose and Up A Lazy River in all twelve keys? Biographers tend to make this assumption, despite having no way of knowing.

I only have one problem with it. I believe Bird was aware, from direct experience at Lincoln High School, that there were multiple keys in music. He just hadn’t been playing saxophone long enough to have them under his fingers. But telling the whole truth would have robbed him of a good punchline.

I am, in fact, a most fervent believer in this truth. It’s my thesis that Honeysuckle Rose and Up A Lazy River were the starting point in Bird’s attempts to understand the system of music, and that evidence of this can be found in his mature style. I will attempt to prove it here, despite being a voice in the wilderness, and hope that those who read this will find it of value, even if they remain unconvinced.

To narrow the search, I will confine it to a single recording date: September 24th, 1948. This was Bird’s final session for Savoy Records, which makes it the very last studio recording of his “classic quintet.” (He had fulfilled his contract with Dial Records back in December.) Henceforth, he would record exclusively for Norman Granz (Mercury/Verve), who showed little interest in recording Bird’s working band. Most Bird enthusiasts would agree that Bird was at the peak of his mature style at the time of this final session. 

Since Honeysuckle Rose was examined in some detail last time, we will leave it aside and take a look at Up A Lazy River.

NOTE: All examples are in the key of C, including transcriptions.

Below is the chart for Up A Lazy River, and the vocal chorus from the original recording, sung by Hoagy Charmichael. Sydney Arodin actually wrote the melody, but Hoagy is credited with arranging and providing help with the lyrics. Speaking of lyrics, the published title is Up A Lazy River, but Hoagy sings “up the lazy river.” This paradox may explain why most people just call it Lazy River.

The recording, by co-composer Hoagy Charmichael, was a hit in 1931, when Bird was eleven years old. It was covered by just about everybody over the years, but it’s largely forgotten now.  

Like many songs of that era, it’s built on dominant 7th chords that move around the circle of fifths, similar to the I Got Rhythm bridge. That in itself makes it an object lesson for young Bird.

The 18-bar melody is composed of arpeggiated 8th notes, eight to the bar, fashioned into a series of 2-bar phrases. It somewhat resembles bebop on the page, but there’s little syncopation to be found. Honeysuckle Rose is also an 8th note-based melody, so I think it’s fair to say that Bird showed a penchant for 8th notes from the very start.

There is a known unknown here: How did young Bird learn Lazy River? Lacking any evidence, I’m going to assume that he learned it correctly, possibly from the sheet music. (Hoagy doesn’t sing the melody exactly as published.) 

I’ve tracked down a fragment of Lazy River in four early Bird solos, one from his very first recording, Honey and Body (mid 1940), and three from his time with Jay McShann: Lady Be Good (12/2/40), Moten Swing (12/2/40), and I’m Getting Sentimental Over You (2/6/41). As I see it, if I can conclusively prove a direct connection in these examples, I’ll be on firmer ground when I put forward more speculative connections. 

The four fragments are all derived from bar 7 of Lazy River. This bit of melody starts on the major 3rd, drops down to the 5th, then the flat 5th, then the 4th, and then it leaps back up to the 2nd. It has a lot in common with other Bird licks, but it’s hard to find direct examples in his mature work. It seems he jettisoned this fragment somewhere along the way.

In Honey and Body, he uses the fragment verbatim, but shifted by half a beat, which is the case in the following two examples, as well. This suggests that Bird played it shifted from the start. In the second bar, he plays the fifth note of the melody almost as is, but raises it a half step, so it implies an augmented chord, a simple but effective variation. Incidentally, the last five notes are identical to the “bebop scale.” This is actually a Lazy River fragment in its own right.

In Lady Be Good, he uses the five-note fragment as above, in the middle of an audacious 8th note run. This time, however, it’s part of a larger structure, because the four notes preceding it are a variation on that very fragment. It differs harmonically (implying IV minor) but maintains the same shape. Bird raises the fifth note to Eb, as above, but it squawks when he hits it, spoiling the the upward leap. I have notated it up the octave anyway.

In bar 18 of Moten Swing, from the same date, Bird plays the exact same phrase with one difference. This time, the fifth note is D, as in the original melody.

In I’m Getting Sentimental Over You, Bird uses the same eight-note group in a 16th note context. At this point, it’s safe to say that Bird treated these fragments as a pair. It’s worth noting that he has shifted by half a beat again, so that the rhythm now conforms to the original melody.

The clearest echo of this phrase in Bird’s mature work is a downward sequence of 6ths in double time, joined chromatically. Instead of starting from the 3rd and dropping to the fifth, though, he starts from the root and drops down to the 3rd. As a result his phrase ends where the Lazy River fragment begins. This example is from All The Things You Are, performed at Carnegie Hall on Christmas Eve, 1949.

From this point onward, this subject becomes more academic. Click on “Parkeology Hypothesis” at the top of the home page to pursue it further. I make my case there through notated examples on the staff, with a minimum of text. Anyone who can read music should be able to get the gist of it in a matter of minutes.