by John Tibbetts
Have you ever wondered how a first CD comes about? What is involved in its making? Here's a true story.
The story of vocalist Lemuel West (pictured above right, photo by Haybert K. Houston) is not exactly a rags-to-riches one. The first part fits, but the riches in a monetary sense have yet to come. But there are many kinds of riches, and recognition of talent -- for a musician -- is one of them.
Not a product of expensive vocal training, West, as he is most often called, learned to sing by singing. Since he was born and raised in the San Francisco projects, gospel music and singing were basic life ingredients, like food and work. So singing was no big deal, and growing up, he didn't even realize he had a natural baritone voice. He discovered it first when he was asked to sing with a country and western band in Sacramento. Learning to project his voice and to entertain sometimes less-than-friendly patrons was essential for that circuit.
One night an acquaintance talked West into singing in a karaoke contest. He won that night and won again and again and again. It was there he heard and began to sing not only soul and pop, but Jazz. And he knew Jazz was where he wanted to go because it felt right. The ability to change the music through phrasing and vocal range and to bring passion to Jazz stories in song took him back to the kinds of music he knew as a youth. Singing Jazz, he knew, had to become more in his life than occasional karaoke appearances. But how do you make that happen? Luck? Most successful musicians will tell you it takes a lot of workand probably a bit of luck as well. West's story is no exception.
Like many aspiring musicians, West holds a full-time job. For some twenty years he has taught in a San Francisco day care program as part of the San Francisco Unified School District. So from noon to 6:00 P.M., five days a week year-round, he works and likes his work. But what he loves to do happens at night. He and a group of hopefuls seek out any venue that will let them sing. They hone their craft with other musicians ranging from mediocre to truly talented. Maybe someone will hear them sing and offer them a gig. And they work at finding gigsfrom one-night stands to an enviable run or steady engagements.
They sing for small-time producers and sometimes produce their shows using their own savings. They sing in dingy basements, in tenderloin clubs, and sometimes in a legitimate Jazz show at such San Francisco venues as the Plush Room, the Blue Muse, Top of the Mark, or former Jazz clubs like the Coconut Grove, Emerald City, or the hit-and-miss Storyville.
Smart vocalists use the not-for-pay opportunities to experiment with their voices and style and to gauge audience reaction. These experiments are sometimes unpopular with accompanying musicians and may relegate them to the "last to sing" category after most patrons have left. But astute and persistent vocalists, in spite of frustrating and often hurtful experiences, do find their own voices and styles.
That's the way it was for West. Organizers promised venues that didn't materialize and offered introductions that most often led nowhere. Some clubs promised they would find a spot soon -- but "soon" rarely came. Surely more opportunities would have come along if he had been willing to sing a particular song and sing it in the way someone else wanted. But West persisted. "I want to sing my songs my way and in my keys!"
Then luck intervened. Pianist James Williams (pictured
below, photo courtesy of John Tibbetts) came to the Bay
Area with his Intensive Care Unit (Billy Pierce on 
saxophone, John Lockwood on bass,
Yoron Israel on drums, and Roger Holland and Miles Griffith on vocals).
Through a mutual friend, West got to hang out with the band, help them set
up, and watch and learn. Both vocalists had performed with the Boy's Choir
of Harlem. Miles had sung in Wynton Marsalis's Pulitzer Prizewinning
production of Blood on the Fields and was a finalist in the 1998
Thelonious Monk vocal competition. Holland is a choral director, symphony
conductor, classical pianist, and consummate vocalist. West listened, questioned,
and learned. And he had an opportunity to sing informally with James
accompanying him. So an important association was formed.
Luck sometimes strikes twice. A short time later during the San Francisco Jazz Festival, Shelagh and Graham Crawley, Jazz enthusiasts from London, came over to hear Williams play. They met West, heard him sing, and were attracted to his style and voice. After returning to London, they decided to make him an offer to help finance a demo recording. Williams thought a full CD was a better choice and offered to accompany him and select a recording studio in New York to secure musicians to accompany West.
Now work began in earnest. West listed forty-three songs he might sing. He used Jazz background tapes and sang almost every night in his garage, recording and listening to his voice. Tom Elliott, a bass player from the Bay Area, was asked to play on the CD, and he readily agreed. Although Tom was a student of John Clayton and had played with such notables as George Cables, Ed Kelly, and Tommy Flanagan, this would also be his first CD. So on weekends and weeknights, when possible, Tom and West would meet and work long hours on keys, tempos, and phrasing.
Now work began in earnest. West listed forty-three songs he might sing. He used Jazz background tapes and sang almost every night in his garage, recording and listening to his voice. Tom Elliott, a bass player from the Bay Area, was asked to play on the CD, and he readily agreed. Although Tom was a student of John Clayton and had played with such notables as George Cables, Ed Kelly, and Tommy Flanagan, this would also be his first CD. So on weekends and weeknights, when possible, Tom and West would meet and work long hours on keys, tempos, and phrasing.
Meanwhile, Williams selected the recording studio and secured the remaining musicians. And what an ensemble it was! If you're going to make a first CD, what better company to have than veteran pianist James Williams, who developed his style in the footsteps of Phineas Newborn and by playing with such great artists as Dizzy Gillespie and Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers. Saxophonist Billy Pierce, also a graduate of Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers, played with such greats as Stevie Wonder, Freddie Hubbard, Hank Jones, and Tony Williams. Drummer Ron Savage, now head of percussion at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, plays often with Billy Pierce and Mulgrew Miller, Celia Smith, and Art Farmer. All are recording artists in their own right. Added to this list of veterans was an impressive young guitarist, Chris Biesterfeldt, a former student of pianist/composer Donald Brown.
The stage was set, and so was the date: March 4 and 5 at Systems Two in Brooklyn. Graham and Shelagh flew over from London for the event, and Stuart Johnson (formerly with Warner-Electra marketing) volunteered as assistant producer.
A brief rehearsal of bass, guitar, piano, and vocals was held on the evening of March 3 in Williams's Finas Sound Productions studio. James reworked arrangements and wrote parts for instruments as needed.
One can only imagine how West felt the next morning as he rode the F train to the studio in Brooklyn. As West and James walked through the unmarked and unremarkable door, they were greeted with an elegant and spacious studio. Musicians were warming up in their individual sound booths as recording equipment was adjusted for each. Some two hours later, the engineer was satisfied with the sound, musicians had warmed up, and the first notes of "But Not for Me" ushered in take one. The recording session had begun.
West loves, in the manner
of Ray Charles and others, to transform pop, cabaret, and country music
into a Jazz idiom. Listen to "Bein' Green," for instancea Muppet
tune that West selected because of its message. "It's not just a frog
song," he says. "You can substitute many words for greenbein'
black, tall, fat, or short." He sang the pop tune "Will You Still
Love Me Tomorrow?" on the country circuit. Then he heard Diane Reeves's
Jazz recording of it, so with new tempo and interpretation, he added that
song. Other standards"Blame It on My Youth," "When You Wish
upon a Star," "Nature Boy," "After the Lights Go Down
Low," "Ain't Misbehavin'," "Over the Rainbow,"
"When I Fall in Love," and "Falling in Love with Love"each
reflect different tempos, keys, and rhythms.
The seasoned musicians were surprised at West's calm and professional approach. He rarely required a restartalthough he was once so moved by Billy Pierce's saxophone introduction that he forgot to come in on cue. On the second day, a photographer, R. Andrew Lepley, was hired to take pictures between recording takes and during sound checks. He was so delighted with the music that he stayed for a full session -- just listening.
So that's the making of a CD, right? Not quite. There's something called post-production, which involves selecting the preferred takes (maybe even combining some of them), selecting the order of the songs, and making a master tape. Then there is designing and printing the CD jacket, selecting the title (for this CD it's Lemuel West: In Good Company, the New York Sessions), writing the liner notes (which most Jazz professionals write after listening to the master tape), and taking care of other details such as song titles and credits. Finally, the CD is ready to be pressed in quantity.
Other questions remain. How will the CD be distributed? Will it get played by Jazz stations? Will it provide new opportunities to perform? Jazz Now Direct CD Store (800.840.0465) has agreed to distribute the CD. The remaining questions are best answered by you!
Note: This article reflects Jazz Now's commitment to assist new Jazz performers in their search for success.
by John Tibbetts