Parkeology 023: Confirmation Byas

It was this superb harmonic ear that equipped Byas to participate, a few years later, in some of the early manifestations of bop. Rhythmically, however, Byas remained firmly rooted in the classic patterns of swing. – Dan Morgenstern, liner notes to Midnight at Minton’s

The Don Byas of 1941 is not the Don Byas of 1944. His ability to swiftly integrate the new vocabulary into his personal style is a measure of his greatness, but in 1941, when Midnight at Minton’s was recorded, he still had both feet planted in the swing era.

Nevertheless, his harmonic sophistication had already set him apart, as had his sound. Hawkins was his model, but I believe Lester was a big influence, too. To my ears, Byas infused the Hawkins sound with Lester’s luminescence, adding a distinct touch of cool.

The tracks on Midnight at Minton’s were recorded by Columbia University student Jerry Newman. Other albums feature other tracks recorded at Minton’s Playhouse, most famously those with Charlie Christian. Byas can be heard on some of these, as well. Were it not for Newman, we would only have Byas’s sporadic commercial recordings during this formative period, most with short solos.

Fortunately, Byas gets two choruses on “Harvard Blues,” with Count Basie (he inherited Lester’s chair). I won’t pass judgment on this novelty number, but Byas takes a masterful opening solo that demonstrates his balance of Hawkins and Lester.

He wasn’t as beholden to vibrato as Hawkins was, and in general his was more subtle. While no one would say he used it sparingly, he had full control, which allowed him to use different types in different contexts, and sometimes none at all.

Byas’s sensitivity to dynamics was another hallmark. He could play softly without losing his lush sound, reserving higher volumes for key moments. His “Harvard Blues” solo, recorded November 17, 1941, is hushed throughout, but he uses delicate shifts in dynamics to create tension and release:

There is a second tenor player on most of the tracks on Midnight at Minton’s. Morgenstern makes no attempt to identify this “second tenorist.” Speculation wasn’t in his job description. But this second tenorist is clearly first rate, so much so that Morgenstern, in my opinion, confuses him with Byas in more than one instance.

If so, no one can throw stones. All tenor players of the era, except Lester, sound so much like Hawkins that trying to distinguish between them is often a fool’s errand. Being exceedingly well equipped for such errands, I will rush in without further hesitation.

I will start with a positive ID. Toward the end of Byas’s first chorus on “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love” (full solo below), a nearby patron exclaims “Well alright, Don!” That settles the matter on this particular track:

Byas is almost inaudible as his solo begins. Granted he’s off-mic in a babbling crowd, but it’s clear he’s starting out softly:

In his second eight, he brings up the volume and hits a high note with wide vibrato, more Hawkins-like than his own default vibrato, which is narrower:

He begins his second chorus by dialing back the volume to where it was at the beginning of his first chorus. Most soloists would continue to build:

Four bars later, he plays a string of eighth notes that are slightly straighter than Hawkins’. Smoother might be a better word. His last few notes sound quite a bit like Lester:

In the second eight, he repeats the strategy he used in his first chorus, ripping up to a high note with a more conservative growl than Hawkins:

Leading into the last sixteen bars, he unleashes some double time runs, ending with exaggerated vibrato and a subtle growl. His sixteenth notes are almost straight:

On his last eight, he rings down the curtain with a vibrato so wide you could drive a truck through it:

These are the characteristics that distinguish Byas from Hawkins, and they are equally useful in distinguishing Byas from the unknown tenor. The best track for sorting all this out is “Exactly Like You,” where both tenors play (complete solos below).

Morgenstern writes, “A mystery tenorman is also present. He is the second tenor soloist.” In my opinion, Byas plays second. Going forward, then, when I say “unknown tenor” I’m referring to the first soloist.

I say this because the Byas characteristics above are displayed more clearly in the second solo. I admit the two solos are quite similar, but they can’t both be Byas, because the two tenors trade eights at the end. (The unknown tenor is having mechanical difficulties with his horn, which also affect his solo.)

In this context, the contrast is more marked. I believe Byas plays first, and I would be surprised if anyone disagrees with me here. The unknown tenor is more extroverted and inclined toward growling. For a while, I convinced myself it was Ben Webster, but he was relentlessly on the road with Ellington all year:

It seems clear to me that Byas tempers the “hot” Hawkins style with his touch of cool from Lester, his subtle control of dynamics and vibrato, and his smoother eighth notes. This overarching distinction between the two soloists would be my strongest argument were it not totally subjective.

Second place goes to overall structure, but this comparison is hindered by the fact that Byas (second solo!) only gets one chorus. It sounds to me as though the overeager trumpet player cuts him off. If so, this may be evidence in itself. Byas isn’t building up going into the second chorus, as most soloists would, and it’s possible the trumpet player thinks he’s winding down.

By comparison, here is the unknown tenor as he heads into his second chorus, eliciting shouts from the crowd:

The simmering hint of a growl isn’t typical of Byas. Here’s his more conservative growl again, this time with Basie, on “Something New,” October 1, 1941:

I will admit that the unknown tenor plays it very cool for his first four bars:

In bars 5 through 8, though, he begins showing a Webster influence, starting with a three-note variation of Motif 2, a Webster motif Bird adopted (Parkeology 019):

This is followed by Motif 1A, which originated in Webster’s “Cotton Tail” solo (Parkeology 023). Here it is, played by Webster first, then by the unknown tenor (both slowed down). Their eighth notes are closer to a pure triplet feel:

Heading into the bridge in his second chorus, the unknown tenor uses Motif 2 again, followed by more pure-triplet eighth notes (slowed down):

This is an odd example, but here is Bird doing his uncanny Ben Webster imitation on tenor, recorded by Bob Redcross in 1943 (slowed down). Bird perfectly captures Webster’s eighth note feel:

For my closing argument, I present the first eight bars of Byas’s solo, which offer a number of contrasts with the unknown tenor’s opening:

Byas starts softly and uses subtle shifts in volume to propel his lines, which grow gradually louder, almost unnoticed. From 00:5 to 00:9, he plays two sets of eighth notes, both much straighter than the unknown tenor’s. Later on in his solo, though, he uses the Webster eighth-note feel, demonstrating his full control over how he swings, which is in keeping with his full control over vibrato and dynamics.

Most persuasive, perhaps, is this opening’s ingenious construction. Byas repeats his first note, concert C, throughout the first eight bars, using other notes to outline the changing chords beneath it, returning to the C again in each new harmonic context. The unknown tenor has no underlying structure to his opening.

There is no satisfying solution to this riddle. Either way, though, the fact that the unknown tenor can be mistaken for Byas is a testament to his excellence. It’s hard to believe he dwelled in obscurity. Then again, jazz history is full of forgotten greats.

In any case, if you’ve acquired a taste for unsatisfying riddles, you can can proceed directly to “Uptown,” a blues with only one tenor solo, widely attributed to Byas.

I’m not so sure.

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Here’s the “Uptown” tenor solo:

Here are the two tenor solos from “Exactly Like You.” I say it’s the unknown tenor first (two choruses), Byas second (one chorus):

Here’s Byas’s “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love” solo: