The Lionel Hampton Story
Hans Bebop, The Netherlands. E-mail

Homepage
 www.lionelhampton.nl

Interviews.


Ron Aprea and Lionel Hampton
Disneyland CA Concert, 1974.

2007, March: Ron Aprea,  Altosaxplayer for the Lionel Hampton Band. in the Seventies.  Website
Here's an interview that I just did for an Italian jazz magazine. 
Ron
    Through your career you work as a composer, arranger, producer, saxophonist,
     clarinetist and flautist with many greats such as Woody Herman, Tito Puente, Frank
     Foster, Nat Adderley, Lionel Hampton, and Louis Armstrong, to name a few: please tell
     me something about these important experiences in your life.....

     Frank Foster: Probably the most important person in my musical career. I was 18 when I
     met Frank, and he was already an international star with the Count Basie band. I had a
     rehearsal band and I had not yet started arranging. I was getting a little frustrated playing
     "stock" arrangements, and back then there was limited printed material that sounded any
     good. I would go to Birdland regularly to catch my favorite band, Count Basie. That's
     where my friendship with Frank started. Frank shared his music with me, taught me how
     to arrange, and put me on a positive path. Frank's music attracted New York’s finest
     musicians, so I was always able to put together the most amazing big bands. After Frank
     left Basie he formed his own big band, and he also played in my big band. I played in
     Frank's sax section for several years. Probably the most important years of my career. It
     was an amazing band that, during my tenure, featured Elvin Jones, Frank Wess, Blue
     Mitchell, Ernie Wilkins, Major Holly, Jerry Dodgion, Benny Green, Arnie Lawrence,
     Benny Powell, Johnny Coles, and a host of other great players. 
 
     In 1982 I produced my first album entitled Positive Energy, and Frank very appropriately
     did the liner notes for that album. Frank contributed arrangements to my wife Angela De
     Niro's first two albums, and soloed extensively on her Swingin' With Legends album.
     Check out his solos on Avalon and Naima. Frank is a great player, great arranger, and
     'til this day we remain great friends. 

    Lionel Hampton: I flew out to Lansing Michigan and joined Lionel Hampton’s band in
     1968. It was a small band with three horns and a bunch of rhythm. Walter Miller on
     trumpet, Chuck Clendenen on tenor, and me on alto. Hamp's rhythm section configuration
     was organ, bass, drums, guitar, and conga drum. This was my first name band where I was
     a featured soloist...and one of the thrills of my life. I loved playing with Hamp because the
     audiences were always large and the reception was always positive. Hamp was a great
     musician and showman. I was impressed with how hard he worked to please his audiences
     night after night. I really didn't think that Hamp would like my playing style since he was
     a beboper and I was coming out of a Coltrane/Eric Dolphy bag during that period. I found
     out later that he was listening a lot to Ornette Coleman, and had a lot of respect for the
     "outside" players. We got along great and later when he expanded to a big band, I played 
     ead alto. I did however, have more fun playing in the small band. I think is was a little more
     solid musically...and more room for improvisation. 

     On October 24, 1970 we played a concert at the Brookhaven Labs on Long Island NY. I
     remember that date because it was my 31st birthday and Louie Armstrong was in the
     audience with his family. Hamp invited "Satchmo" to sit in and of course Pops obliged. I've
     heard Phil Woods talk about his heart-pounding experience being on the bandstand with
     Bird. Well, this was my heart-pounding experience. Imagine Lionel Hampton to my left
     and Louie Armstrong to my right... I lead a charmed life. Fortunately for other band
     members and me, one of the guests's just happened to have a Polaroid camera, and took
     pictures that were instantly developed. The picture of Hamp, Louie, and me, with Louie
     Armstrong's autograph, can be seen on the "Photo Album" page of my wife, Angela De
     Niro's website. www.angeladeniro.com 

     In 1997 I produced an album called Angela De Niro Swingin' With Legends. The album
     featured my wife Angela and my 16-piece band with my life long friends Lionel Hampton, 
     rank Foster, and Lew Tabackin as guests. The album received 8 GRAMMY nomination
     entries. After the recording session, Hamp called and invited Angela and me to perform at
     his festival in Moscow Idaho. During that conversation I learned that Angela was the first
     and only vocalist to record Midnight Sun with the composer himself. Hamp wrote that tune
     50 years prior and decades before Angela was even born. The festival, which celebrated
     Hamp's 90th birthday, was an amazing event. Too many artists to list here, but it seemed
     like the entire jazz world was there to celebrate with Hamp. Angela and I were honored.
     We performed with the Kenny Barron trio, and Angela sang Midnight Sun the following
     night with Hamps big band. 

     In Hamp's final years Angela, my son Matthew, and I would visit him frequently at his
     home in Manhattan. We would spend hours listening to music, swapping stories, and
     eating his favorite peaches and cream cake that Angela would bake for him. We took lots
     of pictures, and many are framed and hanging on our walls. Physically he was having a
     tough time, but his mind and his passion for music never dwindled. I truly love this man. 
     he last time we visited Hamp, he sat alone in a wheelchair, in a dimly lit living room which
     was stripped of most of his belongings, including his grand piano. He smiled and said "are
     you going to play at my festival this year? 

     Nat Adderley: I grew up listening to Cannonball and Nat Adderley. After Cannonball died I
     had the opportunity to tour with Nat. It was a jazz gospel big band with the most amazing
     choir. I was commissioned to write an arrangement on Nat's composition, Work Song.
     Originally I had Nat playing the melody alone with the band playing a stop-time type thing
     around him. During the rehearsal Nat decided that he wanted me to play Cannonballs part
     the way he and Cannonball did it. Hey, never argue with the composer...especially if he's
     giving you a solo. The tour ended at the Appollo Theatre in Harlem NY. Big kick playing 
     ork Song alongside Nat with that amazing band and choir at the Appollo Theatre. Nat and I
     became good friends on that tour, and I always wanted to get together again with him and
     do some playing. It was not to be. Nat passed on about a year later. 

     Tito Puente: The best Latin band ever. I was the first call sub for lead altoist Don Palmer,
     and tenor player Dick Meza during most of the 70's. The band was doing 7 nights a week,
     so the regular players needed sub's who could cover on their nights off. Since I was
     subbing for two saxophonists, I was working 2 to 4 nights a week, and having a ball. My
     first night as a sub for Don, I immediately see a solo on my part. Just a few chord symbols
     with a repeat. I leaned over and asked Dick Meza; "how many choruses do I play?" Dick 
     miles and says "just play man." Never known for short solo's I thought "okay 
     aby...straight ahead." I lean over again and whisper to Dick "can you just tug on my jacket
     when Tito wants me to stop,?" Dick nods. Well, Dick never tugged on my jacket, and I
     played for what seemed like 15 minutes. After a couple of times around on this montuno,
     the brass section jumps in with those wonderful syncopated biting figures, and the
     intensity goes up a notch. Tito jumps in with his timbales and adds more rhythm to an
     already burnin' rhythm section, and brings it up another notch. I was riding this
     wonderful wave of sound. Man, this was heaven. Not wanting to look like a hog, I finally put
     an end to this ecstasy and sat down. After the tune ended, Tito ask's me to take a bow and
     he gives me a wink. I believe the wink was his way of saying "welcome to the Tito Puente
     Orchestra." Later I asked Dick why he never tugged on my jacket. He said "Tito was
     digging it, and when Tito digs it, you just keep playing." 

     Woody Herman: One day, way back in the early sixties, I bought this beautiful gold-plated
     alto (I think from Ponty’s in NYC.) It was a Selmer "Cigar Cutter" with the most
     gorgeous tone I’ve ever heard. I mean, the sound just jumped out of this thing. I also knew
     in advance that this particular model was extremely hard to play in tune. I bought it anyway
     figuring that scuffling a little with the pitch would be a good trade-off with having this
     wonderful tone. I played that horn for a couple of years, and couldn’t wait to take it out of
     the case every day to practice. I was about 25 at the time, and trying to get into better
     playing situations, so I decided to trade in my pitch challenged "Cigar Cutter" for one of
     the newer, easier to play "Mark VI’s." I went up to Links & Longs, added a few bucks, and
     made the swap. 

     In 1966 I got a call from Abe Turchin to play with Woody’s band. He said Frank Foster had
     recommended me and asked me to join the band the following day. I said "OK", and
     proceeded to get my tenor out of the "hock shop". Eddie Daniels and I flew down to
     Baltimore together and joined the band. Eddie and I both got the feeling that the guys were
     real happy to see a couple of tenor players, since the band had played a couple of nights
     with only two saxes (I never did get the story on that.) Apparently the band was in 
     ransition as most of the players from that great "Herd" of the early sixties were gone.
     Although Bill Chase, Nat Pierce, Sal Nistico and Jake Hanna had all left, the band still
     had that Woody Herman fire. I would also like to add that those were the nicest bunch of
     guys that I’ve ever played with. Al Gibbons and Joe Temperley went out of their way to
     teach me the "book", and there was a real "team spirit" that is all too often missing in
     bands today. Anyway, in those days the road manager would set up the stage and would also
     put Woody’s alto and clarinet on a stand right in front of the sax section. I noticed that 
     oody was playing a gold-plated alto. I walked a little closer and learned that it was a
     Selmer. I then crouched down and saw the unmistakable rectangular piece of metal with
     the hole in it right above the octave key. I gently wrapped my fingers around this beautiful
     horn and felt the "pearls". The corks that I had glued on the palm keys were still intact.
     This was my old "Cigar Cutter"! The first thing that went through my mind was…HE
     wasn’t having any trouble playing it in tune! The second thing that crossed my mind was
     how the hell did Woody wind up with my old horn?

     Eddie and I were temporary subs and I only stayed with the band for about three months
     (Eddie about a week or two.) Although Woody was a real sweetheart, I really didn’t talk
     much with him since he chose to drive his Corvette rather than ride the bus. (And who
     could blame him?) We did however, talk about the horn and how he wound up with it.
     Woody told me that while touring Europe, his horn got ripped off. So he made a
     transatlantic call to Links & Longs, which was THE store in New York for saxophones at
     that time. He told them to send him the best alto that they had. They promptly shipped him
     this gold "Cigar Cutter" that had just come in on a trade-in. Woody, I’m sure, loved that
     horn at least as much as I had, since he played it for the remainder of his life. As much as
     I loved that Cigar-Cutter, I never felt bad about my poor judgement in parting with it, and
     in a way I felt honored that big band legend Woody Herman was playing "my horn". 

     Today my gold plated cigar-cutter sits in a glass case at the Smithsonian Institute in
     Washington DC.

    Season by season the jazz music scene changes mood, elements and rhythms to find the
     right groove for the next generation of listeners: how do you live this metamorphosis of
     sound?

     Better question...How does one not change? I don't think artists try or plan changes. I
     think we reflect these changes that are constant. If you are in tune with life and it's
     evolution, your music will evolve naturally. And your work will be sincere and fresh.

    I don't have the right title but i know that you have just realised a solo album on your
     own for Jude Records Label with?minimal distribution and subsequently became a holy
     grail on the jazz dance circuit. Tell us about this recording...

     Positive Energy was my first crack at producing, and the album was actually released way
     back in 1982 on my own label, Jude Records. This was an album that I really enjoyed
     making, and for legal reasons I changed my name from Ron Aprea to Ronnie April. For
     this project I mixed horns and improvisation with rock, Latin, and funk rhythms, and
     added voices for color. Most of the songs were written by me. Joe Sample and Gary Pace
     each wrote one and James Weidman also contributed two songs. It received some radio
     play in the New York, New Jersey, Connecticut area, but I was never able to get national
     airplay, and had limited distribution. I hooked up with a small jazz distributor, Jim Eigo of
     Daybreak Express. He took one carton (about 30 or 40 records) and I never heard from
     him again. Apparently some albums made their way to England because I received a letter
     (no e-mail in those days) from a radio station in the UK requesting 20 albums. I believe
     there were two or three more times that he requested albums, and that was it. Haven't sold
     another one until earlier this year when a record collector from Spain bought 300 copies.
     The fellow who bought the albums said that he had been listening to that album for the past
     10 years. I don't know how the "Holy Grail" landed in Spain ten years ago, but I was
     thrilled to learn that Positive Energy has become a popular dance record in several
     European countries. The dance market is what I was shooting for. Didn’t think it would
     take 20 years to catch on. And I'm excited that HiTop Records has just released a 
     ompilation CD called Jazz Travels which features a cut from the Positive Energy album
     called Snowflake, by Joe Sample.

    Tell me please the names of the musicians and the music spirit of?the magical brilliance
     of the re-arrangement "Snowflake", a Joe Sample composition combining strong samba
     rhythms with funk coupled with some very fine sax and piano solos and swirling female
     vocals, taken from a compilation called "Jazz Travels: A Global Expedition In Search Of
     The Good Groove" by Hitop Records. 

This may sound strange, but I had never heard the Joe Sample recording of Snowflake prior to recording
it. Here's the story. I was playing a jazz club in Brooklyn called Browns. I was a regular at Browns and
played there every Tuesday and Thursday with my quartet. James Weidman was my piano player at that
time, and was dating a piano player named Kim Foreman. Kim was a wonderful pianist and would
occasionally sub for James. One night Kim brought in a piece of manuscript paper with penciled notes
that were kinda scribbled in the staves. Kim said that she had transcribed this tune off of the radio. She
also said it was a samba and that it was written by a guy named Joe Sample. She hummed it to me and
played the changes on the piano. We played it that night and I fell in love with it. I thought it would be a
nice change of pace from the funk and rock rhythms. Incidentally, Snowflake was the first tune that we
recorded that night in 1982 at Nola Studios. My good friend, pianist John Jacobson, had come up to the
session just to hang and give a listen. James Weidman was running a little late, so John sat in to help
with the sound check and balance. Well John nailed that solo and I decided to keep it. I could be wrong,
but I believe that was the first time John ever played that tune. 

 

LIONEL HAMPTON:   BLIJVEN BEWEGEN
--
Blijven bewegen.

 The Lionel Hampton Story.  www.lionelhampton.nl
The Billy Mackel Story. www.lionelhampton.nl/billymackelstory.html-
 

Dutch Radio NCRV: 12 min. interview with Hans Bebop.
"Morgen",  DJ, DJ/Hans Bebop, "Hey! Ba-Ba-Rebop"   Play
Backtalk with Lionel Hampton. Interview by Jonathan Tabak 1998.-Click -


Eind vorig jaar ontving Hampton, uit handen van president Clinton, zijn Lifetime Achievement Award. Niet niks, 
met voorgangers als Paul Newman en Ginger Rogers. Bovendien ruimschoots verdiend, met een carrière die op 
dat moment al 65 jaar telt. En Hampton gaat door. Tientallen platen, een hartaanval of wat, een beroerte, bus- en
vliegreizen in immer strakke tourschema’s; hij draait er zijn hand nauwelijks voor om. Lionel Hampton is 85 en 
staat nog altijd grijnzend twee keer vijf kwartier op het podium. Exclusief de toegiften, die bij een enthousiast 
publiek makkelijk een uurtje extra werk opleveren.
Voor de band dan, want Hampton voelt dat niet zo. Over zijn lust en zijn leven, zijn verleden, en, als het hem ligt,
zijn toekomst.
Door Hugo Pinksterboer
Tussen de soundcheck en het concert in de Rijnhal, eerder dit jaar, heeft Hampton ook nog wel tijd voor een
interview. Hoe het met hem gaat? ‘Prima, hoor, heel fijn, dankjewel.’ Hoe hij overleeft? ‘Gewoon blijven bewegen.’ 
Als hij later achter zijn vibrafoon staat, na een voorzichtig schuifelende tocht over het podium, heeft hij meer te 
zeggen, klinkt zijn stem helderder, en is zijn grijns nog breder. Neem die man zijn stokken af, dan is hij niet meer. 
Als hij niet staat te spelen, te zingen of te dirigeren, zit hij achter zijn vibrafoon op een stoel en slaat het hele 
arrangement met een stok in de lucht mee. En natuurlijk is het Hampton die de volgende solist van zijn voltallige 
big-band aanwijst, die bepaalt hoeveel chorussen er gespeeld worden, die verteld wanneer het afgelopen is. 
‘Ik wilde mijn eigen band hebben omdat ik alleen 
wilde spelen wat ik goed vond. Mijn eigen spoor uitzetten. Dat doen waarvan ik denk dat het mijn publiek bevalt. 
Die vrijheid heb ik alleen in mijn eigen band. Als bandlid heb je tenslotte maar te doen wat die ander denkt. 
Snap je? Hier ben ik de baas. O yeah.’
Lionel Hampton wordt rond 1908 geboren in Louisville, Kentucky. Als de familie naar Chicago verhuist komt hij 
terecht op een de Academie van het Heilige Rozarium, waar hij zijn eerste drumlessen krijgt van een 
Dominicaanse non. Geen gemakkelijke tante, die Sister Peters, maar wel een super drum teacher, die hem de 
rudiments en het notenschrift bijbrengt. ‘En als je iets verkeerd deed mepte ze je onvervaard op je knokkels, 
bij voorkeur met zo’n dikke marching-stok.’
Die basis is Hampton altijd bijgebleven.‘Ik was iedereen altijd een stap voor, omdat de rudiments onder haar 
leiding een tweede natuur voor me waren geworden.’
Rond zijn dertiende ontdekt Hampton de Chicago Defender Newspaper Boys Band. 
De uitgever van deze zwarte krant zorgde voor de instrumenten, terwijl een operazangeres het repetitiegebouw
gefourneerd had. Daar is Hampton dagelijks te vinden. Vanaf half vier ‘s middags, direct na school, voor lessen 
en repetities en om vreselijk hard te oefenen. ‘Ik was behoorlijk ambitieus. Met effect: toen ik net begon mocht 
ik de bassdrum dragen, maar na een paar weken speelde ik snaredrum.’ 
Van de dirigent krijgt Hampton harmonielessen, waarna hij zich onvervaard aan de pauken en de xylofoon 
wijdt. Met een klassieke benadering, maar tegelijkertijd ook met een meer dan open oor voor zijn idool, 
Louis Armstrong. 
Noot voor noot schrijft Hampton Armstrong’s soli uit en vertaalt hij ze naar zijn xylofoon. 
(Klopt niet want Hampton kon geen noot lezen). Hans Bebop.
Ook het werk van Coleman Hawkins en Benny Carter ondergaan die behandeling.
Na drie jaar Newspaper Boys Band gaat Hampton professionele carrière langzaam van start. 
Hij tourt met verschillende bands (‘Wat er ook gebeurde, met wie ik ook moest spelen, zolang ik maar kon 
drummen’) en komt in contact met tal van muzikanten, onder wie de saxofonist Les Hite. Diezelfde Hite komt hij
weer tegen als hij in 1927 naar Californië verhuist. Na zijn eerste plaatopnames (1929) krijgt Hampton, nog 
steeds als drummer, een vaste job in Hite’s twaalfmans-orkest. De band, met onder meer een hele stapel 
Ellington-arrangementen op het repertoire, heeft een vast contract in Frank Sebastian’s Cotton Club in Culver City. 
Na afloop van het engagement worden Hite en consorten teruggevraagd om negen maanden lang 
Louis Armstrong te begeleiden. Hampton waant zich in de hemel en Armstrong is blij verrast als hij zijn eigen 
solo’s op een klokkenspel vertolkt hoort worden. 
Als Armstrong later in een studio een vibrafoon ontwaart, stuurt hij Hampton er direct op af:
‘Kan je daar opspelen?’  En dat kon hij.
BACKBEAT
Hampton stort zich vol overgave op zijn nieuwe liefde. Hij studeert eindeloos en neemt opnieuw harmonielessen, 
werkt aan contrapunt en bekwaamt zich op de piano. Als hij in de band van Hite te weinig kans krijgt om zich op 
zijn vibrafoon te laten horen, (’just play the drums, man!’) besluit hij voor zichzelf te beginnen. 
Met zijn capaciteiten als musicus èn als showman - drumsoli op  wanden, tafels en vloeren bestaan echt al zo lang 
valt het hem niet moeilijk om aan werk en dus aan goede muzikanten te  komen. ‘Mijn showmanship maakte het 
makkelijker om met het publiek te communiceren. Als je je publiek weet te plezieren, wordt je teruggevraagd.
Van die wetenschap heeft Hampton altijd gretig gebruik gemaakt. De leeftijd om woeste regendansen op floortoms 
uit te voeren heeft hij achter zich, maar de blazers van zijn huidige band dienen menige riff te larderen met pasjes 
en zwaaiende hoedjes.
Of ze dat allemaal met evenveel enthousiasme doen kan je je, met een blik op hun gezichten, afvragen. 
Maar  het publiek gaat ervoor. Nog steeds. Niet alleen door Hamton’s show, maar ook door zijn repertoire-keuze:
‘Ik speel altijd wat  het publiek wil horen. Daar heb ik een soort studie van gemaakt, en meestal gok ik goed.’ 
Nummers als Flying Home en Hamp’s Boogie Woogie zijn dagelijkse kost, hoewel Hampton net zo makkelijk
nummers van Coltrane, Parker of Corea inzet. ‘Ik ben altijd heel open geweest voor invloeden van anderen.
Toen Gigi Gryce in mijn band kwam speelden we zijn stukken, met zijn interpretatie. Met Dizzy Gillespie klonk 
de band weer heel anders. Badeedobedoodi, beepoodah, BE BOP! Als ik zo’n arrangement zag zitten, dan ging 
het in het boek.’ Gryce en Gillespie zijn slechts twee namen uit de onafzienbare rij grootheden die Hampton in zijn 
band had. U speelde ook met Charles Mingus? Oei. Stomme vraag. ‘Ik speelde niet met Mingus, Mingus speelde
met mij! Ik haalde Mingus naar New York,  om daar te komen spelen. Net als Quincy Jones, de latere producer, 
en Art Farmer. Enneh, hoe heten ze allemaal... Clifford Brown, Dexter Gordon. Allemaal mensen die hun carrière in
mijn bands begonnen. Al die invloeden heb ik me eigen gemaakt. 'Wordt u nog steeds geïnspireerd door 
anderen, door jonge of oudere muzikanten?
‘Nee, ik inspireer hun nu...’ grinnikt Hampton. Lachend, zelfs: ‘Ze luisteren naar me, en wat ze goed vinden 
nemen ze mee, om het zelf te proberen.’
Als Hampton met voorbeelden komt, grijpt hij vooral in oudere dozen: ‘Ik heb veel dingen op mijn naam staan. 
Zo was ik de eerste drummer die meerdere toms op de bassdrum zette. Ik introduceerde het orgel en de basgitaar 
in de big-band. En de backbeat, natuurlijk. De backbeat, die je nu op elke rockplaat hoort, die gebruikte ik al rond 
1940, in mijn eigen band. Omdat de  mensen op de dansvloer een stevige basis nodig hebben. Dan weten ze waar 
ze zijn. Dus droeg ik mijn drummers op om een  backbeat te spelen. En dat door te laten gaan. 
Wat er ook gespeeld wordt, die backbeat moet er staan. Luister maar naar Wally,  mijn huidige drummer.
Ik heb hem getraind, en hij is goed.  Ik hou van een stevige beat, en die geeft hij me.
Ook aan Hampton’s drumstokken, die hij tijdens het interview geen moment loslaat, is zijn heavy voorkeur te zien. 
Model boomstam. ‘Ik heb mijn rudiments met zulke stokken leren spelen. 
Dat ging goed, dus ben ik ze blijven gebruiken.’

BLIJVEN SPELEN

Terug naar vroeger. Hampton’s eigen band draait goed. Als hij, door ziekte van zijn vrouw, een tournee moet 
onderbreken, wordt zijn groep de vaste attractie in de Paradise, een club in Los Angeles. Daar stappen op een 
avond Benny Goodman, pianist Teddy Wilson en drummer Gene Krupa binnen. Goodman, de legendarische 
klarinettist, is zo enthousiast over Hampton’s vibrafoonspel, dat hij de volgende dag met hem de studio instapt 
en hem meteen vraagt vast in zijn groep te komen spelen. Met het Goodman-Wilson-Krupa-Hampton kwartet 
bereikt de vibrafonist wereldfaam. Ook in een ander opzicht is het kwartet belangrijk: 
Het was’, vertelt Hampton, ‘de eerste keer dat zwart en blank samen op een podium stonden.
Ik ben nog steeds trots dat ik bij het begin van die ontwikkeling betrokken ben geweest.’
Het kwartet blijft vier jaar bestaan. In die tijd nemen ze talloze platen op en doen ze tour na tour. 
Tussendoor ziet Hampton nogkans om ook op eigen titel platen te maken.
De Penguin Guide to Jazz meldt daarover: ‘Lionel Hampton’s sessies uit de jaren
dertig bieden een blik op de beste big-band muzikanten, buiten hun vaste bands: Hampton had de gewoonte 
om de toppers van passerende big-bands uit te nodigen en ze de studio in te halen. Hoewel de meeste tracks 
hoorbaar rommelig georganiseerd zijn, is de muziek steevast onderhoudend. Als je niet van Hampton houdt, 
zijn de opnames duidelijk van minder waarde, omdat niemand zich ook maar een moment hoeft af te vragen 
wie de sessies leidde. Hampton domineert alles en iedereen.’ 
En: ‘Het is Hampton’s enthousiasme dat het geheel bij elkaar houdt. Of hij nu vibrafoon speelt, piano of
drums, of op Armstrong geïnspireerde vocalen neerzet, Hampton laat de hele tent swingen en lachen.’
Als het Goodman-kwartet in 1940 ontbonden wordt, organiseert Hampton weer een eigen big-band. 
Naast eerder genoemde namen werkt hij in de jaren die volgen met Johnny Griffin, Al Grey. Pepper Adams, 
Arnett Cobb, Joe Williams en Dinah Washington, en tientallen andere muzikanten. De band speelt bop, latin, 
rhythm&blues en swing. Dezelfde mengeling van stijlen is ook in Hampton’s huidige band, 53 jaar later, 
nog te horen. In die tijd verwisselde de meerderheid van de artiesten die in interviews met Hampton genoemd 
worden, de aardse podia voor de grote sessie hierboven. Hampton zelf gaat door. 
‘Gewoon blijven spelen, da’s alles, jongeman.’ Als hij zich, met twintig centimeter  per schuifel, naar zijn 
instrument verplaatst, verwacht je niet dat het die avond ooit nog goed komt. Een paar noten zijn 
echter genoeg om die overbekende grijns op Hampton’s gezicht te toveren. En niemand is beter in staat om een 
repertoire dat al zolang bestaat elke keer weer met zoveel enthousiasme te vertolken. Alsof hij tien jaar lang niet 
heeft mogen spelen, en dan, eindelijk... ‘Ik speel elk nummer alsof ik het voor het eerst speel. 
Elke keer opnieuw. Ik repeteer mezelf niet, ik repeteer niet met mezelf. Dat houdt het leuk, snap je?’

SELECTE DISCOGRAFIE

Fervente Hampton-verzamelaars moeten geld en tijd hebben. Het aantal platen waar zijn naam op voorkomt is 
aanzienlijk, en een groot deel is inmiddels van de markt verdwenen en alleen door ware liefhebbers nog op te 
snuffelen. 
Tegelijkertijd is er een ruime keuze uit cd-releases van oudere en nieuwe opnames. 
Zowel in het Modern Drummer interview met Hampton (december 1988) als in de Penguin Guide to Jazz 
wordt de cd Just Jazz (MCA 42329) genoemd.
Hampton speelt op die cd alleen het aloude, maar immer mooie Stardust, dat van meerdere zijden gezien wordt 
als hetbeste wat hij ooit op plaat zette: ‘De dubbel-tempo loopjes, de riff-variaties en de humoristische swing 
waar Hampton zijn leven aan gewijd heeft, zijn hier uitgekristalliseerd tot een enkele, meesterlijke solo,’ 
aldus de Penguin Guide.Hoog aangeschreven staan ook The Complete Paris Session 1953 (Vogue 655609) 
en The Chicago Jazz Concert (1954, 
Sony 21107), beide uit de jaren waarin Hampton de toppen van zijn muzikale loopbaan beleefde. 
De groep die te horen is op Made in Japan (1982, Timeless SJP 175) geldt als een van beste Hampton big-bands 
uit later jaren, met modernere uitstapjes als Interpretation Opus 5 en Minor Thesis.

WALLY ‘GATOR’ WATSON
Website
‘Ik zie een big-band als een olifant. De drummer is het hart van dat grote beest. Dat hart hoeft maar een slag te
missen, en het dier sterft.’ Aan het woord is Wally ‘Gator’ Watson, sinds drie jaar het hart van Hampton’s 
olifant. In de tien (!) minuten pauze tussen de twee lange sets, geeft hij hijgend een onomwonden en 
veelzeggend beeld van Hampton als werkgever en als muzikant. Eh, mister Hampton, moet ik zeggen.
De grap is dat ik eigenlijk helemaal geen jazzdrummer ben. Rhythm & Blues en rock, dat is mijn achtergrond.
Ik heb een eigenbluesband, Big Foot and Little Lucille, waarin ik ook zing. Wilson Pickett, Whitney Houston, 
Ashwood and Simpson, dat is het soort werk wat ik veel gedaan heb. Dus toen mister Hampton me belde was ik 
vooral heel verbaasd. Maar het gaat prima, en ik blijf zolang hij me aanhoudt. Tot nu toe is het een heel gelukkig 
huwelijk geweest....’
Hampton en Watson hebben een bijzondere relatie: 
‘Vorig jaar deden we weer zo’n echte Hampton ‘hit and run’ tournee: 
Hit the gig and Run back on the bus. Hampton hield zich, 84 jaar oud, beter onder dat strakke schema dan de 
meeste andere bandleden.
Tot op het moment dat ik hem in Parijs, tijdens een optreden, onderuit zie gaan. Een beroerte. 
Ik heb me toen aangemeld als zijn muziektherapeut. Met een elektronische set -dat was rustiger voor de andere
patiënten- heb ik hem stukje bij beetje weer leren drummen. Hij weet zo vreselijk goed wat hij wil,
en hoe hij dat moet bereiken: na een kleine zes weken stond hij weer op het podium...’
‘De stijl van spelen waar mister Hampton om vraagt noem ik disco-jazz. 
Weet je nog, disco, met die ene, simpele beat? 
Volgens Hampton is dat de traditionele big-band sound. 
Op veel oude big-band platen wordt die beat door de gitaar aangegeven; Hampton laat het van de drums komen. 
Ik realiseerde me pas wat het effect was toen ik daar met
Hampton aan gewerkt had. Toen heb ik een avond lang alleen maar boom tic, boom tic gespeeld, zonder fills,
zonder breaks. Dat stuwde de band -en het publiek- tot hoogte waar ik nog nooit geweest was.’

RENNEN!

Met Hampton werken is geen sinecure. ‘Afgezien van de strakke tourschema’s en de lange concerten, weet je 
met Hampton ook nooit waar je aan toe bent. Soms brengt hij zijn solo een keer tot een hoogtepunt, 
soms ook drie keer. 
Of vier. Steve Armour, de MD (musical director), moet als eerste gokken of een solo nu echt afgelopen is, 
of dat er nog een chorus komt. Dan is het aan mij om te ontdekken of zijn gok klopt. Want ik ben degene die 
de volgende stap moet inzetten; de drummer zit aan het roer, en doet wat de stuurman hem vertelt. 
Dat is niet makkelijk, met de manier waarop Hampton zijn cues geeft: een vinger omhoog betekent 
nog een keer’, een zwaaiende mallet betekent dat we doorgaan. Meestal, in elk geval – dus we zitten er nogal 
eens vorstelijk naast….
Ook Hampton’s leeftijd speelt een rol. ‘Zijn muzikale capaciteiten zijn natuurlijk minder geworden, hoewel hij nog
steeds dingen neerzet waar iedereen steil van achterover slaat. Hij zit nog vol met ideeën, hoewel het soms 
wat langer duurt voor de signalen die zijn hersens uitzenden daadwerkelijk zijn handen bereikt hebben. 
Maar mag het? Hij heeft, in de tijd dat ik hem meemaak, al
twee beroertes, een hartaanval en een bypass-operatie achter de rug. En hij gaat maar door.
Twee jaar geleden, in Den Haag, heeft hij een kleine vier uur op het podium gestaan. 
Het publiek was wild enthousiast, en we speelde toegift na toegift, totdat uiteindelijk alleen Hampton 
nog op het podium stond. (North Sea Jazz Festival 1991. De toegiften, 
When the Saints, In the Mood, Body and Soul,  What a Wonderful World, Hamp's Boogie. Toen was het genoeg, 
vond de organisatie. Met het zaallicht aan en het podiumlicht uit tilde Hamp mijn vriendin op het podium,
mijn zuster volgde, de stroom voor de vibes werd ook nog uitgeschakeld en Lionel zong bijgestaan door 
de dames met het publiek nog een kwartiertje HEY! BA-BA-REBOB). Hans Bebop.
En de rest van de band? Die was hem na toegift nummer zoveel collectief gesmeerd. 
‘t Is afgelopen, denk jij ook niet? Rennen!!’’ Wally Gator schatert. ‘Voor zover ik
weet heeft Hampton’s Flying Home al aan twee drummers het leven gekost. Hartaanval, op het podium. 
Afgelopen.’ Krijg je gevarengeld? ‘Ach, kijk, volgens mij staat je recorder nog aan... Ik heb de rust van een
bovengemiddeld uithoudingsvermogen, als rock & rolldrummer.’
Wally Gator Watson doet Hampton’s shows op een vijfdelige Sonor set. Dean Markley maakt zijn stokken,
en Sabian... ‘Laten we maar zeggen dat ze bij Sabian goede vrienden van me zijn.’
 
 


Hamp 1993


Backtalk with Lionel Hampton. Interview by Jonathan Tabak 1998

In this, the heyday for "retro-swing" performers like Cherry Poppiní Daddies and The Brian Setzer Orchestra, itís rare to meet someone who has clear recollections from the original swing era of the thirties and forties, that tumultuous period when
jazz became Americaís major popular dance music. Itís rarer still to speak with a musician who played a pivotal role in the development of jazz at that time, and who has continued to perform, compose and impact American music, even to this day.

Lionel Hampton, who will perform in New Orleans on March 12 with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra at the
Orpheum Theater, has been the reigning king of the vibraphone for over sixty years. He was born on April 20,1908 in 
Louisville, Kentucky, but was, for the most part, raised in Kenosha, Wisconsin. Originally a drummer,
Hamptonís boyhood idols were Louis Armstrong and a drummer named Jimmy Bertrand, who tossed his sticks in
the air as lights blinked away from inside his bass drum (a style Hamp still uses in some of his shows today.)

In fact, Hampton didnít begin playing the vibes until 1930, when Louis Armstrong had him try out the new
instrument in a recording session. This resulted in a famous version of Eubie Blakeís "Memories Of You." Word
spread quickly of Hampís prowess on the vibes, and in 1936, at the beckoning of the legendary jazz impresario
John Hammond, Benny Goodman came out to hear young Lionel at the Paradise Club in Los Angeles. At the
time, Benny had a trio within his big band featuring Teddy Wilson on piano and Gene Krupa on drums. "Next
thing you know," recalls Hamp, "I was out there on stage jamming with these great musicians. Thatís one session
Iíll never forget." The Benny Goodman Trio became a quartet that night, and for the next four years the group
 made history, not only as one of the hottest jazz groups in the world, but as the first racially integrated jazz band
 on a national level.

In the early forties, Hampton left Goodman to form his own big band after the release of several wildly successful
RCA singles under his own name, "Sunny Side Of The Street" (on which he sang while playing vibes) and "Central
Avenue Breakdown" (on which he played piano with two fingers, using them like vibe mallets). His first big band
included such sidemen as Dexter Gordon and Illinois Jacquet, and they busted the charts with a recording of
"Flying Home" in 1942 and "Hamp's Boogie Woogie" in 1943.

The long list of stellar musicians who got their start with Lionel Hampton over the years includes Quincy Jones,
Wes Montgomery, Clark Terry, Joe Newman, Fats Navarro, Charles Mingus, Al Grey, Art Farmer, and, of
course, the singers Dinah Washington, Joe Williams, Betty Carter and Aretha Franklin, among others.

Today, the 90-year old Hampton is a living legend. One of the few surviving internationally renowned jazz stars of
the swing era, he still tours the world with his seventeen piece big band, an orchestra filled, as always, with up and
coming young jazz talent. His 1991 release Lionel Hampton & His Golden Men Of JazzóLive At The Blue Note
Vols. 1 & 2 (Telarc), featuring Hampton playing with former colleagues Hank Jones, Milt Hinton, Grady Tate,
Harry "Sweets" Edison, Clark Terry, Al Grey, James Moody and Buddy Tate, was nominated for a Grammy.

Hampton was awarded the Presidential Medal of Arts by President Clinton on January 7, 1997, two days after
 miraculously escaping from a devastating fire that completely destroyed his Manhattan apartment. He has more
than 15 honorary doctorates, and the music school at the University of Idaho is named in his honor. He has
received the Gold Medal of Paris, that cityís highest cultural award, and is the only American to have a
champagne named for him, a special blend labeled "Champagne Cuvee Lionel Hampton, International
Ambassador of Good Will."

On March 12th, at the Orpheum Theater, Hampton will perform one of his symphonic works, The King David
Suite, with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra. At 8 p.m., Kermit Ruffins & The Barbecue Swingers will kick
off the concert, the proceeds from which will jointly benefit Xavier University and the Louisiana Philharmonic
Orchestra. (Call 504/523-6530 for information.)

From his current apartment in Manhattan, Hamp began our interview in an extraordinarily warm and cheerful
manner, expressing his anticipation for the upcoming New Orleans concert. "Oh, boy, itís going to be sweet," he  said.
When you were a kid, how were you exposed to music?

Well, I was exposed to it from the church. I used to go to church with my grandmother, practically every day of
the week. I used to sit on the front row with my grandmother, because she was one of the elders of the church.
They had a band used to play along with the service, and they had a sister playing the bass drum. When she
would get happy and get up and start to dancing, and walking the floor, I would take over and start beating the
bass drum. I got my inspiration from that, from the Gospel... I always confided in my grandmother and followed
her. She wanted me to be a drummer. At Christmas time, my Grandmother would see to it that my family would
buy me a drum. And I was not going to hold at that, just the bass drum, so my Grandmother had them give me a
second drum.

What was it like to meet Louis Armstrong and then to work with him?
Oh, boy, that was just like going to paradise, you know, to be with the real master of jazz. He liked to play with
me, because I could really keep good time, and swing on drums. I would ask him, "Mr. Armstrong, what is jazz?"
Heíd say, "Well, Iím going to tell you Hamp, if you donít know what it is, donít mess with it."

Was it really Armstrong who got you to start playing vibes?

Yeah. I was in a teenage band that did an audition for a famous nightclub in California called Frank Sebastianís
Cotton Club, because they had brought Louie out from New York, and he had had his band out there, a bunch of
older cats, for about five years. Louie liked our band. We were a bunch of teenagers, but we really could play,
boy. Louie liked us so well that he took us to a recording session with him. And in the recording studio, they had
vibes, which were new to the music business. So Louie asked me, could I play some on them? And I said,
"Yeah," so I played a song called "Chinese Chopped Suey" for Louie on the vibes, and Louie said, "That sounds
good, wait and play it on this record with us." The record was a tune that Eubie Blake had written and sent Louie
the music, a song called "Memories of You." Louie said, "You go ahead and find yourself a place in there and play
with us." So I did, and that was the first time jazz was ever played on vibes.
Youíve been associated with the vibes now for over sixty years. What do you love most about that instrument?

I like them because itís mellow and, Iím a regular drummer, but I found something I could play some music on,
see, and that was the vibes. I can play some beautiful music on the vibes, play some melody.

Do you remember the first time you played with Benny Goodman?

Yes I do. The first time I played with Benny Goodman was after Louie Armstrong had left. I had played with
Louie for a whole year at Frank Sebastianís Cotton Club, and after he went back to New York, he was going to
send for me, because he liked my drumming so well, but Benny Goodman asked me to come join his band. He
was forming a quartet. Benny had heard about me, and came down and had a jam session with me one night. He
liked it so well, he said, "Come on, letís make a recording tomorrow morning." So he took me out to the RCA
Victor studio with him and we made four sides. He made a deal with me and put those records out across the
country, and then he sent for me to come to New York and join him. I stayed with that band for four years. And it
was four wonderful years, too.

Indeed, that quartet, with you, Goodman, Teddy Wilson and Gene Krupa, is now seen as one of the
most important groups in the history of jazz. It broke new ground musically, but also socially.

Socially, because it was the first time black and white had played together.

How did it feel to be in such a controversial position?

Well, at first I didnít put too much importance on it, because I just wanted to play music, and Benny Goodman
wanted to play music, and everybody that was in the quartet, all they wanted to do was play music. And the
group really played together, let me tell you. They play those tapes here in New York two or three times a week,
man, and people go crazy over it just like it was recorded three years ago.

So you really didnít feel that much heat or pressure being in that position?
No. Boy, it was great! People started coming more and more to us and congratulating us and following us. It was
just wonderful, you know? I realized later that we were breaking down the barrier.

What qualities do you think made Benny Goodman so special?

He was just born that way. He didnít have a prejudiced bone in his body. If you could play music, and you played
it good, well, you were all right with him.

Does it surprise or bother you that still to this day there are very few racially integrated jazz bands?

There ainít none really. [half-chuckles] Well, we did our job, and we did it good, too.

What prompted you to expand beyond jazz and make symphonic works like The King David Suite?

Well, you know, Iím a student of the bible, see, and I got the inspiration when I went to Israel, and it just came to
me. The Lord gave me the idea. It comes right from the bible, right from the Psalms. And the Chief Rabbi, thatís
the spiritual leader of Israel, he helped me out a whole lot. I dedicated The King David Suite to him. I had a
wonderful time writing it, you know, and youíre going to like it when you hear it.

Over the years, have you developed any special ties to New Orleans?
Yeah, well, Dr. Francis, President of Xavier University, itís like Iím a member of his family. His wife and sons, and
his daughter and I, weíre all just like one, you know? And his son has grown up to be my lawyer and all, and heís
a great lawyer. Heís one thatís helping quite a bit with this benefit, for his fatherís school, you know? Furthermore,
the symphony musicians are all donating their time and their good will to make this affair financially great and also
musically great, too. So weíre looking forward to having a really big, social time in New Orleans, you know.

In the last few years thereís been a remarkable resurgence in the popularity of swing music with a
young audience. Whatís your reaction to this phenomenon?

Yeah, well, it just goes to show you that the black music that came from our forefathers has rose up again and
said, "Here I am!" And the kids have never had a chance to hear it and itís good for them. They can dance by it.
They can socialize with it, and itís just wonderful.

A long list of incredible musicians have started their careers in your band. What qualities do you look
for in a young sideman or woman?

To be original, and can read his part, and come up with good ideas. Like Illinois Jacquet, he was a New Orleans
boy, and he came up with some good ideas. And also, Wynton Marsalis, he played in my band once when I came
to New Orleans. My first trumpet player took sick, and they had told me about this young kid. Wynton had never
played my book before, but he came in and played and was a sensation.

Heís incredible isnít he?

Oh, yeah, and they got a whole lot of great trumpet players down there now. You know, [Nicholas] Payton,
Leroy Jones, Terence Blanchard, he played with me. Yeah, weíve got some good boys coming in and out of my band.

Indeed, and youíve also discovered some great singers over the years.

Yes, Joe Williams, Dinah Washingtonó

How did you discover her?

Well, Iíll tell you, she was working in the Regal Theater in Chicago, where musicians used to go, and someone
told me about this girl working in the powder room. So I invited her to come and sing in my show, and she did,
and she was a sensation. So I asked her if she wanted to join my band, and she said, "Yeah, I do." And I said,
"Whatís your name?" She said, "My name is Ruth Jones." I said, "I donít like that name, can I change it?" She
said, "I donít care what you call me as long as you give me the job." Out of the clear blue sky, I said, "Well, from
now on, your name is Dinah Washington."

Did you work with Aretha Franklin also?

Yeah, I got Aretha out of her fatherís church in Detroit.
Why did you become interested and active in politics later in your career?

Well, I saw how you could get important movements going if you could connect with politics, and if you could
pick out the winner. [chuckles] Eisenhower was one of my winners, Richard Nixon was another one, John F.
Kennedy, George Bush, Ronald Reagan... So I was doing pretty good.

What political issues do you feel most strongly about?

Breaking down prejudice. That ís the most important one for black people.

These days, what makes you really want to get up in the morning?

ëCause I feel bright for today. In my mind, I feel bright for today.

1998
Hamp and Angela chatting backstage, Lionel Hampton Festival, Moscow Idaho, 1998
Lionel Hampton and Angela DeNiro chatting backstage.
Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival 1998.
 Website Angela DeNiro -