4. West End Blues

Louis Armstrong & His Hot Five (OKeh 8597, 1928 – b/w “Fireworks”);
composed by Joseph Nathan “King” Oliver

In the context of jazz history – only a decade old (on shellac anyway) when this record came out – liking this can be a little like saying your favorite painter is Rembrandt when you have no idea of how large The Night Watch is. That is only to say you could not possibly be wrong, but you will always have miles to go. Coming to it cold today, without context, you admire Armstrong’s jaunty solo trumpet introduction, setting up the entrance of his sidemen playing in a stately march rhythm, followed by Earl Hines’ languorous piano solo, Armstrong’s wordless vocalese against Johnny Dodds’s clarinet solo, and one more solo by Armstrong against the bias (in the couture sense of the word). Nothing is missing, except that in 1928, this record was a ferocious lightning bolt and about as avant-garde as something so popular ever is. It has several different tempos simultaneously. It has several different musical styles simultaneously. The opening solo – which was reportedly based on figures from a trumpet exercise book – took what had heretofore been a military band instrument, bent time and space with it, and squared the circle with the closing fusillade. This was impossible. It still is.

Note: 25 secular essays about 25 songs, each one exactly 200 words long, appearing one per day (on average) during Advent (or the moral equivalent).