Albert Nicholas was one of
the most liquid and articulate of all New
Orleans clarinettists. But it was not always
so. One of the pleasures in tracing this chronological,
near thirty-year, span of his recordings is
in tracking Nicholas’s embryonic talent in
his youthful twenties and in following him
through increasingly sophisticated company
until we reach the elder statesman, far from
home, and lionised in Europe.
Though he was a cousin of
Wooden Joe Nicholas, Albert was totally unlike
the down home blues trumpeter and clarinettist
whose scorch still fractures his proud but
fragile 1950s sides. Albert, for one thing,
left New Orleans and joined the migration
north, and that’s where we find him in 1925,
in Chicago, in the first sides in this worthy
retrospective. He was as old as the new century
then but looking backwards. The upper register
has the dread hint of the gaspipe and he indulges
vogue-ish slap-tonguing much as Coleman Hawkins
was still doing on tenor in Fletcher Henderson’s
band. In his early King Oliver and Luis Russell
days the style strengthens and the tone clarifies.
But he did retain more than just a hint of
Jimmie Noone about his playing – something
he shared with Barney Bigard – and the influence
(though polished) could sometimes become rather
enervating.
We hear a lot of sidemen
colleagues. Underrated trumpeter Ward Pinkett
gets good (if erratic) outings and the pianist
Joe Turner strides splendidly on Toledo
Shuffle - Adrian Rollini in the otherwise
all-black band – on drums! There’s an example
of his work with Louis Armstrong’s orchestra
– a When You’re Smiling paraphrase
– but he’s heard to better effect stretching
out with Baby Dodds’s band with Art Hodes
paying dues to Jelly Roll – whom we actually
hear earlier. Nicholas’s blues playing was
– even in those sides with Bechet – and pace
Vic Bellerby’s liner notes more studied and
refined than elemental and to that extent
he makes a good foil for his molten, vibrato-laden
fellow New Orleanian Bechet. These are well-loved
sides but of maybe less renown is the stellar
little band with James P Johnson, Danny Barker
and Pops Foster who produced a slew of Creole
patois numbers.
Finally we have some examples
of his long European sojourn, all live, exciting
though not over-scrupulous, in the way of
these things. The canny selection had to include
something of these days and with the other
selections it’s been well accomplished. Vic
Bellerby’s notes are good but someone’s fallen
down over spellings. It was Lorenzo Tio who
taught Nicholas not, God help us, Lorenzo
Tito. Luis Russell is thus not Louis. It was
Tom Anderson’s place in New Orleans not Tim
Anderson’s – I can’t imagine a Tim in New
Orleans then or now. Rex Stewart would not
be happy to see himself as Ray Stewart.
Jonathan Woolf