Bits & pieces of dis and dat
A mixed bag today, of sorts. First off, let’s talk a little bit about legendary jazz pianist Vince Guaraldi.
Vincent Anthony Guaraldi (/ɡəˈrældi/; né Dellaglio, July 17, 1928 – February 6, 1976) was an American jazz pianist best known for composing music for animated television adaptations of the Peanuts comic strip. His compositions for this series included their signature melody "Linus and Lucy" and the holiday standard "Christmas Time Is Here". He is also known for his performances on piano as a member of Cal Tjader's 1950s ensembles and for his own solo career. His 1962 composition "Cast Your Fate to the Wind" became a radio hit and won a Grammy Award in 1963 for Best Original Jazz Composition. He died of a sudden heart attack in February 1976 at age 47, moments after concluding a nightclub performance in Menlo Park, California.
Guaraldi was born in San Francisco's North Beach area, a place that became very important to his blossoming musical career. His last name changed to "Guaraldi" after his mother, Carmela (née Marcellino; 1908–1999), divorced his biological father (whose last name was Dellaglio) and married Tony Guaraldi, who adopted the boy. Growing up, Guaraldi was influenced by both of his maternal uncles, Joe and Maurice "Muzzy" Marcellino, both of whom headed jazz big bands in San Francisco for many years. He graduated from Lincoln High School, briefly attended San Francisco State College, and served in the United States Army as a cook in Korea from 1946 to 1948.
Guaraldi in 1946
Guaraldi's first recording was an unreleased demo made with Tom Hart in mid-1951. His first official recording was made in November 1951 with Cal Tjader's Mambo Trio. The songs—"Chopsticks Mambo", "Vibra-Tharpe", "Three Little Words" and "Lullaby of the Leaves"—were released in December 1953 on the 10-inch LP record, The Cal Tjader Trio. By summer 1954, Guaraldi had formed his first trio, with Eddie Duran (guitar) and Dean Reilly (double bass), and regularly performing in the house band at the hungry i jazz club in San Francisco, backing the singer Faith Winthrop.Guaraldi's first recorded debut as a group leader occurred in August 1955 during a live session held at the Black Hawk. Of the tracks recorded, two of them ("Ginza" and "Calling Dr. Funk" the former recorded as part of the Ron Crotty Trio) were original compositions. The sessions were eventually released by Fantasy Records in March 1956 on Modern Music from San Francisco. Fantasy was impressed enough with Guaraldi to offer him an exclusive contract in April 1956, yielding his debut album, Vince Guaraldi Trio, which featured Duran and Reilly sans drummer. At the time, Guaraldi was subsequently appearing with Woody Herman's Third Herd, delivering energetic performances on a regular basis−a sharp contrast from the quiet recordings featured on his debut release.
Guaraldi then reunited with Tjader in August 1956 and was an integral part of two bands that the vibraphonist assembled. The first band played mainly straight jazz and included Al Torre (drums), Eugene Wright (bass) and Luis Kant (congas and bongos). The second band was formed in the spring of 1958 and included Al McKibbon (bass), Mongo Santamaría (congas and bongos) and Willie Bobo (drums and timbales). Reed men Paul Horn and Jose "Chombo" Silva were also added to the group for certain live performances and recordings.
Guaraldi recorded his follow-up album, A Flower Is a Lovesome Thing in April 1957, again featuring Duran and Reilly and again without a drummer. The album, released in October 1957, did not perform well, and Fantasy did not retain Guaraldi.
Guaraldi left the group early in 1959 to pursue his own projects full-time. He might have remained a well-respected but minor jazz figure had he not written an original number to fill out his covers of Antonio Carlos Jobim/Luiz Bonfá tunes on his 1962 album, Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus, inspired by the French/Brazilian film Black Orpheus. Fantasy Records released "Samba de Orpheus" as a single, trying to catch the building bossa nova wave, but it was destined to sink without a trace when radio DJs began turning it over and playing the B-side, Guaraldi's "Cast Your Fate to the Wind". A gentle, likeable tune, it stood out from everything else on the airwaves and became a hit, spending 19 weeks on the Top 100 chart and peaking at No. 22—an unusual feat for a jazz instrumental. Guaraldi ultimately won a Grammy for Best Original Jazz Composition. Guaraldi never minded taking requests to play it when he appeared live. "It's like signing the back of a check", he once remarked. When asked by San Francisco Chronicle jazz critic Ralph J. Gleason if he felt like he sold out with the song, Guaraldi responded, "I feel I bought in." Guaraldi later commented, "I don't think I'm a great piano player, but I would like to have people like me, to play pretty tunes and reach the audience. And I hope some of those tunes will become standards. I want to write standards, not just hits.”
If you don’t know “Cast Your Fate…” already—aww, who am I kidding, you know it. Everyone does. Or at least, everyone should.
Sweet, sweet song, that one—one of those earwigs that, no matter how bad, mad, or sad you might be feeling when you cue it up, you’re gonna be happy as some clams by the end of it. Now, back to our story.
Guaraldi's relationship with Fantasy Records began to sour by 1965 after it was learned he was receiving only five percent of every record sale while Fantasy retained the remaining 95 percent. He sued in early 1966 in an effort to sever all relationships with the label; Fantasy promptly countersued. Fantasy executive Saul Zaentz became president in 1967, eventually buying the company from original owners Max and Soul Weiss in December of that year. The sale of Fantasy Records to Zaentz resulted in both Guaraldi and the label dismissing the twin lawsuits, leaving Guaraldi a free agent. Thirty-five years after Guaraldi's death, Fantasy Records and its parent company Concord Music were sued by Guaraldi's children for engaging in "a system" of "serving false and deceptive statements while underreporting units sold and underpaying royalties." Their lawsuit, filed in December 2011, claimed a private accountant uncovered a discrepancy of at least $2 million for the years 2005–2010 alone. When asked if the alleged wrongdoing goes back decades further, the Guaraldi family's attorney Alan Neigher responded, "Well, we hope it does.”
Saul Zaentz, a notorious grifter, opportunist, and out-and-out thief, might also be a familiar name for some of you.
In 1955 (Zaentz) joined Fantasy Records, for many years the largest independent jazz record label in the world. In 1967 Zaentz and other partners purchased the label from founders Max and Sol Weiss. The partners signed roots-rock group Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR), fronted by former Fantasy warehouseman John Fogerty.
Fantasy Records owns the distribution and publishing rights to the music of CCR so to extricate himself from his original contract with Fantasy, John Fogerty signed away even more than the original contract had stipulated. Additionally, bad investments by Zaentz and Fantasy, seemingly on the group's behalf, cost CCR millions of dollars, some of which the group recouped through legal proceedings. In the 1980s, Zaentz sued Fogerty claiming plagiarism from Fogerty's own music asking for $140 million in damages but he lost (Fantasy, Inc. v. Fogerty).
Fogerty counter-sued for reimbursement of attorneys' fees and in a decision by the U.S. Supreme Court, Fogerty v. Fantasy, 510 U.S. 517 (1994), he won. Fogerty composed songs about the experience on his 1985 album Centerfield ("Zanz Kant Danz", "Mr. Greed"), which were thinly veiled slams at Zaentz.
Defamation of character lawsuits followed for the lyric, "Zanz can't dance but he'll steal your money" and also claiming that the melodic line in "The Old Man Down the Road" was a lift from the Fantasy-copyrighted-but-Fogerty-written song "Run Through the Jungle" from CCR's successful album Cosmo's Factory (1970). The defamation issue was settled with Warner Bros. and Fogerty changing the title and lyric to "Vanz Kant Danz". Zaentz lost on the copyright issue when a jury found Fogerty not liable.
Fogerty in turn claimed the label misled him about investing and managing his earnings from royalties, resulting in a devastating financial loss. Years later, when Zaentz sold his interest in Fantasy, Fogerty almost immediately re-signed with the label.
Okay, enough of that asshole already, back to Guaraldi for the fascinating story of how the beloved Charlie Brown soundtrack music came to be. Against all expectations, the tale does NOT begin with A Charlie Brown Christmas.
In 1963, while searching for music to accompany a planned Peanuts documentary entitled A Boy Named Charlie Brown, television producer Lee Mendelson heard "Cast Your Fate to the Wind" on the radio while driving across the Golden Gate Bridge. Mendelson then contacted Ralph J. Gleason, who put him in touch with Guaraldi. Mendelson offered Guaraldi the job of composing the score for the documentary, which Guaraldi gladly accepted. Within several weeks, Mendelson received a call from an excited Guaraldi who wanted to play a piece of music he had just written. Mendelson, not wanting his first exposure to the new music to be marred by the poor audio qualities of a telephone, suggested coming over to Guaraldi's studio. Guaraldi enthusiastically refused, saying "I’ve got to play this for someone right now or I’ll explode!" He then began playing the yet-untitled "Linus and Lucy" for Mendelson, who agreed the song was perfect for Charles Schulz's Peanuts characters. Reflecting on the song in 2008, Mendelson said, "it just blew me away. It was so right, and so perfect, for Charlie Brown and the other characters. I have no idea why, but I knew that song would affect my entire life. There was a sense, even before it was put to animation, that there was something very, very special about that music.”
The documentary soundtrack, entitled Jazz Impressions of A Boy Named Charlie Brown, was recorded by Guaraldi's current trio (with bassist Monty Budwig and drummer Colin Bailey) in October 1964 and released in December of that year. Although the documentary was ultimately shelved due to Mendelson's inability to secure sponsorship, Schulz and Mendelson retained Guaraldi for the upcoming Peanuts Christmas special, A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965). The soundtrack album was recorded by the Vince Guaraldi Trio, this time featuring drummer Jerry Granelli and bassist Fred Marshall, and contained the songs "Christmas Time Is Here", "Skating" and "Linus and Lucy". Both the seasonal television special and accompanying soundtrack were very successful.
Derrick Bang, Guaraldi historian and author of Vince Guaraldi at the Piano, commented that, "the importance of Jazz Impressions of A Boy Named Charlie Brown and its successor, the score to the Christmas special, cannot be overstated; rarely has an entertainment icon been so quickly—and firmly—welded to a musical composition...indeed, to an entire body of work from one individual. Guaraldi defined the Peanuts sound, and it's just as true today as it was in the 1960s. The compositions themselves are uniformly sparkling; it's as if the jazz pianist and his trio were waiting for this precise inspiration." Mendelson concurred: "There's no doubt in my mind, that if we hadn't had that Guaraldi score, we wouldn't have had the franchise we later enjoyed.”
All involved with A Charlie Brown Christmas initially regarded the stunning success of the project as something of a one-time fluke, but the second official Peanuts television special—Charlie Brown's All Stars!—was televised in June 1966 to similarly high ratings and acclaim. It was at this point that Schulz, Mendelson and animator Bill Melendez focused on creating another holiday blockbuster in the vein of A Charlie Brown Christmas, eventually titled It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Guaraldi spent most of summer 1966 composing cues for the Halloween-themed special, strongly encouraging Mendelson to consider making "Linus and Lucy", which had been featured prominently in the Christmas special, the unofficial Peanuts theme. Guaraldi did not include the song in the music score for Charlie Brown's All Stars! and worked to correct that oversight by featuring it throughout It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Melendez responded to Guaraldi's suggestion by beginning the special with a lengthy cold open sequence sans dialogue, employing only music and sound effects to convey Linus and Lucy's search for a pumpkin. Guaraldi recorded a fresh version of "Linus and Lucy" for the opening sequence as a sextet, featuring Budwig and Bailey, as well as trumpeter Emmanuel Klein, guitarist John Gray, and flautist Ronnie Lang. Lang's flute counterpoint was featured throughout the new version of "Linus and Lucy", resulting in the song ultimately becoming the Peanuts franchise signature melody.
Guaraldi went on to compose scores for twelve additional Peanuts animated television specials, as well as the feature film A Boy Named Charlie Brown and the documentary Charlie Brown and Charles Schulz (both 1969). Despite the wealth of Peanuts material Guaraldi recorded, only A Charlie Brown Christmas and A Boy Named Charlie Brown (both the unaired documentary and feature film) received official soundtrack releases during his lifetime.
Tragically, Vince Guaraldi died much too young, gigging in small clubs around his Mill Valley, CA home right up to the very end. Not out of financial necessity or hardship, mind—his smash Peanuts success had left him comfortably enough off—but simply because he loved doing it.
Actually, no; I take it back, that’s not quite right. Guaraldi, see, was what I’ve for many years referred to as a Player—first, last, and always. And as it happens, that means something your everyday squarejohn type of person can never fully grasp.
See, over lo, these many years, as a Player my own self I’ve had quite a few conversations with friends, acquaintances, and even veritable strangers about this very distinction. Eventually, as I’d be boring all and sundry to tears with stories describing the travails of the Player’s life, one well-meaning soul or another would always say it: “Wow, you most really love it, huh?” To which close-but-not-quite assertion I would usually respond thusly: No, it isn’t that. I DO love it, of course, but really, it’s more that I’m incapable of NOT doing it. It’s just who I am, it’s what I do.
Same-same with Vince Guaraldi: he didn’t merely love doing it, he HAD to. His entire identity, his sense of self, was inextricably entwined with being up on that stage—playing before a live audience, spreading the joy as far and as wide as he possibly could, right up until his heart literally gave out.
I can think of many worse ways to go, honestly.