Gilbert Charles "Gib" O'Shaughnessy - San Antonio Jazzman 

(Apr. 12, 1904 - Feb. 10, 1989)

by Donald Debner (Castroville, Texas) -- Nephew of Gib O'Shaughnessy

Gib O'Shaughnessy loved music from the start.  It was in his blood.  His father led the annual St. Patrick's Day Parade while dancing Irish jigs.  (But his father couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, according to Gib's sister Katy).  Gib also did the jigs, along with his younger brother Emmett.  Sometimes the three performed as a trio.  Gib wanted to play music, so he learned to play the clarinet at age 16.  This led to his career as a musician and a life filled with music he shared with everyone he met.

Gib was the seventh of eight children of Gibert Ryan O'Shaughnessy and Mary Hansberry.  Gilbert Ryan was straight from Ireland, arriving in the U.S.A. around 1878; Mary was another generation removed from Ireland, her folks having come through Mobile, Alabama.  The O'Shaughnessys were the typical struggling family in San Antonio, Texas where Gib was born.

The music bug bit Gib hard.  Jazz music was in its beginning stages and it intrigued Gib when he heard it.  He recalled in later life that he was fascinated by the blues and wanted to play nothing else.  But he just loved music anyway and wanted to play it even if it meant leaving home and suffering the disapproval of his parents to do it.  His first real musical job was in 1922 when he went to Tampico, Mexico with a small group of musicians.  When they returned to Texas he stayed in Tampico.  There he met "Ham" Crawford, who played in Larry Conley's orchestra.  (Conley later became a songwriter and was the lyricist for "A Cottage For Sale," published in 1929).  Gib joined the orchestra and stayed with it after Crawford took over from Conley.  This group returned to the states and played throughout East Texas and Arkansas.

Gib joined Peck's Bad Boys around April, 1923 at Peck Kelley's invitation.  They were playing at the Garden of Tokio Ballroom in Galveston.  Peck Kelley was an influential jazz pianist in Houston who rarely ventured away from his home city.  His band was one of the best of the early jazz bands.  Jack Teagarden (trombone) was already a member of Peck's Bad Boys.  He and Gib may have known each other in San Antonio in 1921 0r 1922 because they both played in local spots before Jack moved to Houston.  (Jack had to leave San Antonio in a hurry because he was a witness to a shooting at the place he was playing; he was afraid the shooters were after him to silence him).

Gib and Jack became good friends while they were playing together.  They were close in age and experience (Jack was born Aug. 20, 1905) and both had family in San Antonio (Jack in later years).  The friendship was so close that one of Jack's sons was named after Gib.  Gilbert Teagarden was the son of Jack and Dee Ora Teagarden.  Dee Ora lived in McQueeney, Texas until her death at age 97 in 2001.

Gib was later with Marin's Southern Trumpeters, which included Teagarden and Terry Shand (piano).  They went on a four-months tour during the summer of 1924 that ended in Mexico City.  They returned to San Antonio to play at the Winter Garden on October 8.  It was at this engagement that Gib was asked by Jimmie Maloney to play in his orchestra, known as "Jimmie's Joys."  But Gib decided to stay with the Trumpeters for a gig in Ohio.  That turned into no job, so they returned to Texas and Gib decided to join the Joys.  This was probably October 18, 1924.

Jimmie's Joys had its start in Austin, Texas in 1921 and played at Galveston's Joyland Park during the summer of 1921.  Then the band performed around Texas and across the South.  The name Jimmie's Joys became so well known that Maloney legally changed his name to Jimmy Joy in 1927.  In 1924 the band was hired as the house band at the St. Anthony Hotel in San Antonio.  While there the band broadcast on WOAI twice a week.  The Joys started out as a hot jazz band with no formal arranger.  All band members contributed to head arrangements, learned from the sheet music and records and committed to memory.  during their time at the St. Anthony they performed the old jazz standards but moved closer to straight dance music.

In October 1924 Gib recorded with the Joys in Dallas for OKeh Records.  By this time he had learned to play the alto and tenor saxophone and played them on recordings.  In April 1925 the band was given time off from the hotel to travel to Kansas City for a recording session.  They made numerous one-night playing stops along the way.  In Kansas City they recorded on May 13 and 14.  Gib had several clarinet and alto solos.  Additional recordings were made in Dallas in October 1925.  On Feb. 20, 1926 the Joys closed their 19-month engagement at the St. Anthony.  They opened March 1 in he Crystal Ballroom of the new 18-story Baker Hotel in Dallas.  The Baker opened its swank Peacock Terrace Roof Garden on May 31 with the Joys providing music.

The Joys broadcast live from the Baker on WFAA on Monday, Thursday and Saturday at 2:30 and 6:30 p.m.  Included inn the broadcast was the vocal trio "Pick, Shovel and Spade" composed of band members Gib, Clyde "Fooley" Austin and Earl Hatch.  The band left the Baker in November, went on tour, then returned to the Baker until Dec. 28, 1926.

Next was the Brown Hotel in Louisville, Kentucky in January.  They stayed six weeks and broke attendance records.  The band returned to Texas for a tour, then back to the Brown and a performance as the official Kentucky Derby Orchestra, which they did for three consecutive seasons.  There were more tours, including a month at Peachtree Gardens in Atlanta, Georgia.  In the Fall of 1927 they returned to the Brown.

There was a recording session in March 1928 in Chicago for Brunswick Records.  Another session took place in May.  Next was an engagement at the Muehlebach Hotel in Kansas City until Oct. 7.  Beginning in 1930 other long engagements took place at hotels in St. Louis, Oklahoma City, Denver, St. Paul, Pittsburgh, Memphis, Milwaukee, Shreveport, Philadelphia and Chicago.

The Joys left for San Francisco in March 1932 to play at the Bal Tabarin Night Club.  In July they made their way back east.  One of the stops was at Sylvan Beach near Houston.  At this point Gib decided to leave professional music.  While at the Bal Tabarin he had married Marion Hayden of San Francisco.  She didn't care too much for the music world, so they returned to the West Coast where Gib began working in his father-in-law's butcher shop.  After a year or so in this work Gib went to work for Standard Oil in California, eventually becoming a sales representative.  He retired from the company in 1977.

But Gig didn't retire from music; it was too much a part of him.  After leaving the Joys he played most of the time in a non-professional status whenever the opportunity arose.  He played at social events, fund raisers, family gatherings and other times when people wanted music.  He became an entertainer also, telling stories and jokes to go with the music.  This suited his outgoing and cheerful personality.  He especially did an impersonation of musician Ted Lewis, whose big songs included "Me and My Shadow."  Gib went exclusively to his clarinet for his later years of music-making.  He also did paid gigs from time to time.  One gig in later years was a cruise to Hawail where he was asked to join a group of young musicians to provide music for the cruise.  Gib said he had a great time on that job.

Gib and Marion always lived in the San Francisco area.  Their later addresses were in Belmont and Burlingame.  They had no children.  Marion died in 1975.  Gib died Feb. 10, 1989 of Legionnaires Disease in San Mateo.  They are buried at Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma, California.

Here is a summary of Gib's musical career:

1921 - 1922: Local music spots in San Antonio

1922: In Tampico with Dwight Bourn (piano); Dee Orr (drums); Merrill Doyle (C-melody sax)

1922 - April 1923: Larry Conley's Orchestra

April 1923 - 1924: Peck's Bad Boys

1924 - October 1924: Marin's Southern Trumpeters

October 1924 - July 1932: Jimmy Joy's Orchestra 

Piano Man

The spirit of Earl "Fatha" Hines has been hovering around the Jim Cullum Jazz Group for quite awhile…

A couple of weeks ago, we played "You Can Depend on Me" at Bohanan's.  Pianist John Sheridan added a sparkling right-hand tremolo on his solo chorus, then looked up and smiled as he said, "Why not?  It's a 'Fatha Hines' tune!"  A few nights later, Jim mentioned hearing the 1940 recording session by Sidney Bechet -- which also included Hines, Rex Stewart, John Lindsay and Baby Dodds -- for the first time.  He marveled at the interplay between Earl Hines and Rex Stewart and enthusiastically exclaimed, "Man!  It sounded like Hines and Louie on 'Weatherbird'!"

Last weekend, our friend David Boeddinghaus filled in for John at the Boardwalk Bistro and on a concert in Schertz (a small town just north of San Antonio).  David was in full-on Hines mode and his playing was full of ringing tremolos, "trumpet-style" single-note lines and the same kind of suspended and broken left hand patterns that characterized Hines' playing.  We were all grinning ear-to-ear as amazing sounds continued to emanate from the keyboard.  Time after time, Jim yelled "Go on, David!  Take another one!  Take another one!"  He obliged, and each solo chorus was more fantastic than the previous one.  After David returned to New Orleans, Jim told me "I sure like Earl Hines, filtered through David Boeddinghaus!" 

Jim has experience with the real thing, too.  In 1971, as then-owner of AUDIOPHILE records, he recorded Hines' tributes to Louis Armstrong, Hoagy Carmichael and W.C. Handy over a two-day span.  Later, Jim assembled an all-star group consisting of Hines, Joe Venuti, Bob Haggart and Ray Bauduc to perform at the "World Series of Jazz" in San Antonio, opposite the Happy Jazz Band (the predecessor of the Jim Cullum Jazz Band).

In May, 1990, the Jim Cullum Jazz Band, with guest pianist Dick Hyman, recorded a broadcast entitled "Piano Man: Earl Hines, The Father Of Modern Jazz Piano" for the  RIVERWALK program.  The band's regular pianist, John Sheridan performed alongside Hyman on the broadcast.  He recalls that not long before the Hines show, a program was recorded that featured the intricate music of pianist Bob Zurke.  John said, "The Zurke show was a picnic compared to the Hines!"  (Zurke played "contrary-motion" bass and treble lines and busy, syncopated figures in the melody but none of it is nearly as complex as a typical Hines performance)!

I asked Dick Hyman for a description of Earl Hines' playing.  Dick's reply was as concise and accurate as he is on the piano:

Earl Hines broke with the ragtime-stride tradition by basing his playing on what single-note horn players, in particular Louis Armstrong, were attempting  in the 1920s. He translated their horn-playing phrases  into pianistic octaves and occasional filled chords, interrupting the regularity of  the stride left hand with sequential tenths and single note punctuations, while his dazzling right hand runs anticipated [Art] Tatum and [Teddy] Wilson. I’ve entertained the notion, though it’s perhaps a stretch of thought, that Hines’ playing in its individuality might be compared to that of Jelly Roll Morton, though Hines’ keyboard technique was far fleeter, and his ideas more “modern.”  I suspect, too, that neither pianist would have appreciated the comparison.

As a side-note to Dick's last comment, David Boeddinghaus mentioned that he visited one of Hines' disciples -- Jess Stacy -- in Los Angeles in the late 1980s.  Stacy remembered a late-'20s visit to the Sunset Cafe' in Chicago where he was paying rapt attention to Hines' performance.  Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to see Jelly Roll Morton standing behind him.  Morton pointed to Hines and said to Stacy, "Son, that boy can't play piano!"  Jelly Roll Morton was a Jazz icon, but it is a safe bet that several generations of Jazz pianists would disagree with his assessment of Hines' talent!

One of the songs performed by Dick Hyman, John Sheridan and the Jim Cullum Jazz Band for the Earl Hines program was "Piano Man," which was originally recorded by Hines' Orchestra in 1939.  There is a band vocal, which includes the refrain "Swing it, Fatha Hines!"  Everybody did swing -- on the original recording as well as the broadcast!  The RIVERWALK program can be heard in streaming format at http://riverwalkjazz.stanford.edu/.  ("Piano Man" is program number 228).  And if you are as enamored of Hines' music as this writer, be sure to order a copy of Limited Edition Box Set number 254 "Classic Earl Hines Sessions 1928 - 1945" from www.mosaicrecords.com.

-- Hal Smith

Mr. Rhythm

   Jim and I have not changed our positions on Artie Shaw vs. Benny Goodman.  However, when the discussion heats up, we do have an arbiter: Genial John Sheridan, who knows every note of every part in every arrangement ever played by Shaw and Goodman.  John will listen to the conversation, then respond with "Shaw's record of ("xxx") is hard to beat, then he will sing the melody of an arranged passage or solo exactly the way it was played.  Or -- he might say, "Well, Goodman's 'Walk, Jenny, Walk' is what inspired me to listen to this music."

   However, one thing that Jim, John and I agree on: Freddie Green was KING OF THE RHYTHM GUITAR!  Today, Mar. 31, is Freddie Green's birthday -- so it's only appropriate that we pay tribute to his inestimable contributions to Jazz… 

   From the very first notes he played on an early Count Basie broadcast ("I'll Always Be In Love With You," from June 30, 1937) it is obvious that Basie's "All-American Rhythm Section" was a force to be reckoned with.  Green floated atop a phenomenon he described as "The Rhythm Wave" with piano, acoustic guitar, bass and drums locked in, and focused entirely on generating an unstoppable swinging feel.  Eventually, Green's unadorned 4/4 became one of the hallmarks of the Basie sound.  In the late '30s, Basie, Green, bassist Walter Page and Jo Jones swung mightily, no matter what type of material was being played or sung.  Later Basie rhythm sections had a totally different feel, with less-is-more piano plinking, modern bass lines and aggressive drumming.  But through it all, Freddie Green kept a pulsating rhythm going.  Thick strings, high action and a series of b-i-g bodied guitars compensated for the lack of an amplifier and the strum of his Gretsch, or Stromberg, could easily be heard over the loudest Basie orchestra in full cry.  The pulse went right through you, to paraphrase Eddie Condon, "like a triple bourbon."

   With all the emphasis that has been put on his rhythm playing, it is easy to forget that Freddie Green was also an excellent soloist.  He took lessons from the marvelous guitarist Allan Reuss, and in 1938 actually soloed on record ("Dinah," with Pee Wee Russell's Rhythmakers).  In later years, Green traded fours with the Basie brass on Thad Jones' "The Elder" and of course "Li'l Darlin" would not have sounded the same without the signature guitar glissando that began each four bar phrase at the beginning of the song.  Fortunately (or not), the Basie rhythm section required a straight, unaccented 4/4 on the guitar rather than inventive solo flights.

   Veterans of the Basie band recall that Freddie Green interacted well with veteran musicians (and of course the orchestra leader) but was taciturn to the point of rudeness with younger players.  But by the 1980s, Freddie Green had paid a lifetime of musical dues, pioneering a style of rhythm guitar playing that is still held in the highest esteem by musicians and fans alike, around the globe.  He may have just decided to let his guitar playing do all the talking.

   In San Antonio, whenever the discussion turns to rhythm guitar for our band, we can depend on Jim to say, "I want FREDDIE GREEN!"  No argument there, Jim!  Not from me, not from anyone.  Who wouldn't want that wonderful, subtle, swinging pulse to be the sparkplug of their rhythm section???

   Happy Birthday, Mr. Rhythm.  Wish you were here!

    -- Hal Smith

For more information regarding Freddie Green, including rare photos, recordings, transcriptions and interviews, visit www.freddiegreen.org.

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Shaw vs. Goodman: After 73 years, we’re still arguing!

by Jim Cullum

Hal Smith, esteemed jazz drummer, is clearly one of the great experts on the origins of jazz. He knows a lot about it and he knows a lot about how to play it.

Hal Smith

“You really prefer Shaw to Goodman?” he quizzes me. He knows in advance that he has a fight on his hands.

Artie Shaw and Benny Goodman

Let me tell you, I think that these arguments, so common among jazz nuts, are mostly hot air. Hal prefers the Coca Cola. I’ll have a Pepsi, please! Most of the time, that’s how silly this stuff is. But, for old time’s sake, we go at it.

Shaw vs. Goodman! Of the two, Shaw thrills me more.

“No comparison!” I say, “Shaw wins in all the ways I can measure.”

Hal fires back, “How could you measure so that you prefer Shaw?” He lists numbers of Benny’s early recordings.

We might go on like this for days – especially if we are on the road.

Swing Crazy Kids

The Shaw vs. Goodman battle was first waged by the jazz weirdoes during the late 1930s. A tidal wave of jazz, newly re-packaged as “Swing” had young Americans by their throats. A performance by one band or another would ignite passions never known before in American music. The jazz camps lined up. The excitement about Shaw and Goodman caused one of the biggest battles. Mainly Benny won out. He was the most popular of all swing-era figures and generally he eclipsed all other clarinetists.

However, Shaw began to challenge Goodman’s preeminence, and between the two of them, a high water mark of jazz clarinet performance was set.

Goodman and Shaw

For my money, no one ever played the clarinet more beautifully than Artie Shaw. As much as I admire Benny, here are reasons I admire Shaw more:

1) Shaw’s tone is a little darker – I think it is more mellow and richer and more interesting than Benny’s. In a few words, Shaw’s tone is unique, recognizable and gorgeous. 2.) Shaw is more careful about picking out the most interesting notes. This may be small potatoes, but I don’t think there are quite as many surprises in Benny’s playing.

When you listen to Shaw, think of Bix and listen that way. Shaw’s sound is special like Bix’s and he doesn’t waste many notes. He is like Bix in telling the story. Somehow the Bix influence is in there. Maybe it is accidental. But I suspect that Shaw had been very impressed by Bix. Both Beiderbecke and Shaw had special tones and both tended to find unexpected patterns.

Shaw had heard Bix play at his peak. He was amazed by the sound. “The whole horn vibrated,” he said.

A few years later Shaw roomed with Bix for a while.

After another 60 years, an aging Shaw attended the Bix Beiderbecke Jazz Festival at Davenport, Iowa. He discovered that the Beiderbecke home where Bix was born and had grown up was becoming dilapidated and the roof had failed. Shaw began to yell about the condition of the house.

In the end, the whole place was well restored. This was a big deal. To the hardcore devotee, the Beiderbecke house is a Mecca.

Bix Beiderbecke - classic photo

I suggest that when you listen to Shaw, listen to the similarities to Bix.

Shaw possessed and often displayed more technique than Bix. But don’t let that confuse any point about their similarities.

Goodman, also considered a kind of genius by many, swung just as hard. His playing was always perfect, flawless.

But Shaw is where a special, individual art lies. Listen to Shaw that way and see what you think.

Great though it is, I do not recommend another round of “Begin the Beguine.” Rather get into Shaw in depth. There is a huge wealth of recorded material, and Shaw, who retired early, was always at the top of his form.

“So if you’re so smart,” Hal asks, “who are your fingers-on-one-hand favorite jazz musicians?” You know the bit − whose records do you take with you to a desert island, when there can only be five artists?

I am ready for him. “Here you go,” I say. And I toss them off, for I have played this game for a lifetime: “Armstrong, Beiderbecke, Bessie Smith, Artie Shaw, and there is a 10-way tie for 5^th and last place.”

“That 5^th place is a cop out,” Hal says.

“Why are you worrying about my 5^th place, anyway? We’re talking about Goodman and Shaw. You go figure out your own 5^th place choices.” This is the way these jazz arguments have been going ever since Buddy Bolden, having finished with the waltzes and schottisches, came on with a slow, grinding blues.

There are some strong similarities in the Shaw/Goodman comparison. 1.) Both were unique and brilliant musicians. 2.) They were eccentric in the extreme. 3.) They were driven by their egos and their talents and the clear rivalry that was between them. 4.) They took great advantage of the rising tide of the swing era to carry the form to a high art.

If you can find it, try the double CD set of the Artie Shaw “At the Blue Room, At the Café Rouge” air checks. To my ear, big band swing just does not get any better. Shaw’s hands are all over this stuff. He wrote or directed the writing of the arrangements. He set standards for solo quality. The result: everyone in the band absorbs much of Shaw’s taste, and solo notes are not wasted. Ensemble precision is amazing. The rhythm section, with young Buddy Rich on drums, is as good as it gets.

If you do find this CD, I suggest that you experiment with turning down the high frequency response. In the transfer from LP to CD, the audio has become a little too edgy to be faithful. But I think you’ll like it – really like it!

I enjoy this size band too: four rhythm, three trumpets, two trombones, four saxophones, plus Shaw (14 pieces in all). Benny’s band had the same instrumentation.

I never cared as much for the later swing bands – often with nine brass, five reeds and usually only three rhythm.

If you hear a swing band today it is usually extra large and more about volume than it is about swing. Often you will see 20 mikes on a band already loud enough to peel the paint. Rock starts to creep in on some numbers.

Or, sometimes there is the other extreme − moo cow, slavish imitations of Glenn Miller.

Of course it would not be impossible to create a swinging band like Shaw’s. But it would take an obsessed genius like Shaw to drive it. And the market is not there. To realize full potential, a band like this must actually work every night for hundreds of nights.

Jim Cullum

PS. A tip-

The other night I saw a movie, “Dancing Co-ed,” starring Lana Turner and Artie Shaw. The movie is terrible, but Shaw plays a lot, and his playing is magnificent. You can find all this on your computer. I can’t − I am computer challenged. But you can find it, you lucky dogs!