Teddy Charles: New Directions

Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com

Vibraphonist Teddy Charles was playing free and modal jazz nearly as early as Lee Konitz, Lennie Tristano, Billy Bauer and Gil Melle. In 1951, '52 and '53, Teddy recorded a series of three 10-inch LPs for Prestige in the trio, quartet and quintet formats. I was thinking of Teddy yesterday and gave them a listen, finding the material to be as interesting today as it must have been back then.

Joining Teddy on the trio tracks were Don Roberts (g) and Kenny O'Brien (b). The quartet session featured Jimmy Raney (g) Dick Nivison (b) and Ed Shaughnessy (d). The quintet material, recorded on the West Coast, featured Shorty Rogers (tp), Jimmy Guiffre on reeds, Curtis Counce (b) and Shelly Manne (d). The trio tracks are O’Brien's a Flyin’, This Is New, Ol' Man River, Tenderly, Basin Street Blues, I'll Remember April, The Lady Is a Tramp and Blue Moon. The quartet tracks are Edging Out, Nocturne, Composition for Four Pieces and A Night in Tunisia. And the quintet material included Free, Evolution, Margo and Bobalob(tracks without Giuffre were Wailing Dervish, Variations on a Motive by Bud, Further Out and Etudiez le Cahier).

Teddy was always hip. Whether he was playing other artists' material, such as Dizzy Gillespie's A Night in Tunisia or Hall Overton's Mobiles, standards such as Lady Is a Tramp or Tenderly, or his own compositions such as Nocturne, the execution was always a serious swinging scene. Back in 2007 and 2008, I spent a lot of time on the phone with Teddy talking jazz. I'd frequently call him to ask about a recording session, but the most fun was when Teddy called me, often for an opinion on one subject: "Hey Marc? It's Teddy Charles." Then he go on to ask me what I thought about new albums. 

I'd always stay neutral, which would give him the opening he wanted in the first place. "He's a nice guy but he can't swing. I mean a lot of guys today can't swing. Swing used to be everything. Today it's nothing." Teddy, of course, was right. Jazz used to be about how well musicians could swing what they were playing and get listener emotions raised in the process. Think Lester Young, Lucky Thompson, Gerry Mulligan, Stan Getz and so on. It's hard to find swingers now, largely because swing is no longer a key ingredient in the music. [Photo of Teddy Charles above by Barbara Ellen Koch]

I remember the time I called his place out on Long Island and he was rehearsing a bunch of young local guys for an upcoming gig. He told me to hold on, that he was going to put the phone down so I could hear them going through a tune. It was glorious to listen to Teddy play vibes. The pianist was killer as well.

At the end, Teddy got back on the phone. "What did you think?" I told him how much I dug it, asking who was on piano. "That was me. My guy didn't show so I slid over to the keyboard. Were we swinging?" I said, "Yes, you were swinging." "Were they?" he asked. "You were swinging," I replied. "Look, man, I know," he said. "What can I say? I'll have them swinging by the time we get on stage." [Photo above of Teddy Charles]

All of Teddy's albums swing with a cool attack, as if he knew instinctively what the listener's ear wanted to hear. It's like seeing a pocket square perfectly folded or a tie knotted just so. It's what guys knew how to do back in the 1950s, things that no longer matter.

The recordings mentioned above are a great place to start if you're unfamiliar with Teddy's vibes and cerebral swinging style. Fortunately, they're on one CD. As you collect him, you'll always marvel at his ability to go deep and to keep it real. Teddy died in 2012. I miss hearing him on the other end of the phone wishing things were different.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Teddy Charles' series of early Prestige recordings on New Directions here.

JazzWax clips: Here's the Teddy Charles Quartet playing A Night in Tunisia...

Here's Teddy on Tenderly...

Here's Teddy playing Edging Out...

And here's The Lady Is a Tramp...

Used with permission by Marc Myers

Chris Byars Remembers Teddy Charles

By Chris Byars
I began my professional relationship with Teddy in 2007 with a cold call, urged by my good friend, jazz historian Noal Cohen. I had recently completed an extensive study of the music of Gigi Gryce. Cohen, who published an excellent biography of Gryce, felt that I should reach out to Teddy, who hired Gigi to play alto in the Teddy Charles Tentet in the 1950s. Charles had a reputation for being difficult to communicate with, but the mention of Gryce’s name cut through the social barriers and I soon became acquainted with a very entertaining, talented and funny man. I scheduled a jam session at his house in Riverhead, Long Island, with the members of my quartet: John Mosca (trombone), Ari Roland (bass) and Stefan Schatz (drums).

It soon became evident that Teddy was as much of a comedian as he was a jazz vibraphonist/composer. His living conditions were somewhat dilapidated, and he had several dogs that were mostly out of control. The first laughs we had mostly centered on the dogs, who would pester us while we tried to play tunes that we all knew, such as Charlie Parker melodies and common jazz standards (like “All the Things You Are”). There were many exchanges that inspired respect. I asked him what he thought of my tenor saxophone hero, Lucky Thompson, and he replied, “Oh, Lucky? He was great! I had a trio in the ’50s with him and Oscar Pettiford.” Then he told us about subbing on piano for Thelonious Monk at Minton’s (Monk was an erratic attendee of his own gigs), and how Hank Jones took him under his wing and showed him the chord voicings that would give him the New York sound.

The drive to Eastern Long Island made these jam sessions fairly difficult, but fortunately we were able to progress to paid opportunities. The biggest prize came first, in the spring of 2008: a weeklong engagement at the Village Vanguard. My group performed the week on the heels (literally, the night after returning) of a month-long “Rhythm Road” tour for the U.S. State Department. But Teddy proved tougher than us, performing all week with a major injury he had sustained to his leg, which created an open wound and eventually required hospitalization. We performed the same Bird-and-standards mix, with a few extras thrown in: Teddy Charles originals that I transcribed for the group, such as “No More Nights” and “Arlene.”

Read more: http://jazztimes.com/articles/73524-chris-byars-remembers-teddy-charles

Teddy Charles (born April 13, 1928) is an American jazz pianist, drummer and vibraphone musician

Teddy Charles (born April 13, 1928) is an American jazz pianist, drummer and vibraphone musician. Born Theodore Charles Cohen in Chicopee Falls, Massachusetts, he began his musical career studying at Juilliard School of Music as a percussionist. Later he started recording and making personal appearances as Teddy Cohen [1] with bands[2] as a vibraphonist, writing, arranging and producing records in 1951 changing his last name to Charles.

Charles was one of many jazz musicians who hung out at an apartment building at 821 Sixth Avenue in New York City known as the Jazz Loft rented by photographer and artist David X. Young who in turn sublet two apartments to Hall Overton (Charles' mentor) and Dick Cary. Known as an innovator, his main work was recorded in the 1950s. Charles also did session work with musicians and singers as varied as Miles Davis and Dion.
He released a live album "Live at the Verona Jazz Festival" on the Italian Soul Note label in 1988.

Currently Ted is the Captain of the Skipjack Pilgrim out of Greenport, New York (on the North Fork of Long Island) and performs music locally. See the teddy-charles.com link below. Teddy recently sold the Schooner Mary E. The Mary E remains sailing out of Greenport. Teddy has recently began performing again after spending years at sea. A previously unreleased recording of Teddy and Max Roach at the Rovigo Italy, Jazz Festival, 1988 is due out soon (2008).