| Highly respected
and well loved by jazz fans old and young all around the World, with enough
stories about famous people, touching situations and thoughtful observations
about his life’s dedication to fill a gripping biography (which,
by the way, is being planned), Gerry Salisbury remains modest, mild mannered
and kind, a pleasure to listen to in conversation, spell-binding to listen
to in performance. Although he is now a 77-year-old great grandfather,
currently living with his wife in Alora in Andalucia, he has no intention
of hanging up his cornet and still regularly travels hundreds of kilometres
to play at gigs with his group The New Orleans Jump Band, which is no
stranger to the jazz scene in Spain, from Jerez to Madrid and all along
the Costa del Sol.
Having met Gerry at a Christmas party and having listened to the advice
he was giving to a young Spanish bass player, I knew that this was no
ordinary man. “You have to play music from your heart,” he
was saying passionately to a very attentive Manolo, a talented member
of the local group The Memphis Trio. “You have to put everything
into it, you have to play each song as if it was your last.”
A few weeks later I was lucky enough to be granted an interview with the
diminutive jazz giant in his relaxing apartment in Alora.
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What
is jazz, exactly, Gerry?
Jazz is a feeling, a gut feeling. You just know when it’s jazz.
What drew you to jazz in the first place?
My mother loved to dance and my father was an exceptional trumpet and
piano player. He played with Ambrose and his band in the 20s and in the
pit orchestra at the London Palladium in the 30s, so I suppose it came
from there. I used to work as a page boy with Dickie Valentine at the
Palladium, where my mother was a cleaner, and I loved it. After I got
back from my military service, a friend took me to the Cook’s Ferry
Inn to hear the Freddy Randall Band. My head was just buzzing with the
music and I bought a trumpet and started blowing. I bumped into Dickie
Valentine again and he was playing in Hammersmith and suggested I went
along. That was it really, I’ve been playing ever since.
You play trad jazz, how would you describe that,
compared to modern jazz?
Well actually, I play all kinds of jazz really. Many musicians were a
bit blinkered in a way and felt they had to stick to one form of jazz.
The trad players were known as Mouldy Figs and the modern ones as Dirty
Beeboppers. But there are lots of different types of jazz, East Coast,
West Coast etc. Trad jazz is an infectious foot-tapping type of jazz,
while modern jazz has more rhythm and is more intricate. Either way, it’s
about feelings really. The band lays down a harmony and then they take
turns improvising. That’s where the real magic comes from. If you’re
playing with good musicians they pull you up and you start bouncing off
each other. I love all kinds of jazz myself, but as I say, some people
tend to be a bit blinkered. I remember when Humphrey Littleton dared to
play sax there was an outcry. I used to play trad with a banjo and then
later at Ronnie Scott’s I played trumpet. Then in 1954 I got a call
from a friend who wanted to put together an English band to tour Europe,
playing the sort of Bill Haley pop/jazz that was popular at the time.
I had to learn to play bass in three weeks! I suppose I just had a feeling
for it. I never learned to read music, it just came to me.
Music is often about trends, does jazz still have
a place?
Oh yes, it may have been pushed aside in a way, but it has survived. A
lot of younger people find themselves enjoying it before they even realise
that it’s jazz. They are often surprised to find out about its scope.
Really good jazz grabs you, it’s that simple, although of course
there is bad jazz too.
What advice would you give a young musician starting
out in jazz?
I’d suggest he listens to good musicians like Dizzy Gillespie and
Chet Baker. If he likes them then he’ll be on the right track. But
it all depends, either you’ve got it in you to play good jazz or
you haven’t. The important thing for a musician is to find out what
he likes and develop it.
What do you think about pop and rock?
A bit superficial sometimes and a bit noisy, but having said that I have
played with lots of pop and rock artists and really enjoyed it. After
touring for a few years in the late 50s with George Melly, I got a job
at the Trident Studios in Oxford Street, helping out with recording sessions
and also taking part sometimes. The Beatles were always looking for new
musicians to try out and I cut a seven single playing trumpet with Eric
Clapton which was produced by George Harrison, called The Eagle Laughs
at You.
Jerry showed me the record and a leaflet for the Trident Studios and he
pointed out a picture of the piano which had been set up for John Lennon
to record Hey Jude.
John was a nice guy, a bit different. I also recorded with Hawkwind and
Van de Graff. I remember in the early days, when I was working at Drum
City in Shaftsbury Avenue, Phil Collins used to come in. He was only about
15 and I used to let him play the drums in the shop. Years later he came
up to me at the studio and said hullo and that he remembered those days.
It meant a lot to me. Jazz and rock are linked to each other. I used to
tour with the Trebletones and we used to support Cliff Richard and the
Shadows. We all travelled in the same coach and on one occasion I almost
filled in for the Shadows’ bass player who was late. I was just
about go on, but he arrived just in time. The two types of music are that
close, but jazz has always been my preference and still is.
When
you’re playing jazz how do you feel?
It can lift me from the ordinary world, I can forget all my problems.
But it depends a lot on who you are playing with. If they’re good
it’s really amazing. If you are playing with someone like Peter
King, the British equivalent of Charlie Parker, you have so much to work
with. In the early days, listening to Jack Parnell on drums, Ted Heath
on trombone and Dickie Valentine singing was a real inspiration for me.
I was absolutely in awe of Jack Parnell. Years later in Norwich I was
invited to play with him and it was almost frightening. But then I got
to know him better and did many gigs with him. Good musicians bring out
the best in you and you feel good too.
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You
are dedicated to jazz and you are happily married. How do the two great
loves go together?
Difficult at times. I spent so much time away from home. There were so
many lonely nights sitting in hotel rooms after the performance, while
Jean was alone at home. Then we had kids and I missed out on so much.
I remember once one of my little girls hugged me so tightly when I was
leaving for a tour, as if she felt she would never see me again. The worst
time for me was once when I got back from Germany. The water tank on the
roof had frozen and then exploded, bringing down the ceiling into the
flat. The place was empty and my wife and kids had gone to stay with my
wife’s mother. I felt really low.
Did you think about stopping then?
No, it was the way I earned a living. There was a time, though, when I
did try to stop, but that was for another reason. You see, I couldn’t
read music and there was never any problem with that. I just used to pick
up melodies and tunes. When I met Freddy Foster he asked me if I could
read and I just said ‘mmm’. I played with him and he asked
me to tour with him. I then had to admit to him that I couldn’t
read and he said ‘I knew that’, but to be honest I don’t
think he did. But the problem came when I was doing the Peggy Lee song
Fever with Helen Shapiro. She was so particular about every note and not
being able to read had a very bad effect on me as a result. I actually
stopped playing for a while and got a job delivering cars.
What made you start again?
People kept asking me to play. So I went to play at the Tallyho in Kentish
Town, where loads of jazz musicians gathered and played together.
And through the years, Gerry kept on playing. Before moving to Spain,
he and his wife lived in Norfolk, where he played at the Millwright Arms
in Toftwood. An old friend, Acker Bilk, came to play at their inaugural
concert in October 1997, the performance receiving rave reviews in the
British press. Two years later it was the turn of legendary jazz trumpet
player Kenny Baker, once again receiving adulation from the lucky audience
and the media. Now, as well as playing the circuit on the coast, Gerry
plays once a month in Alora, where understandably tickets sell like hot
cakes.
What’s
it like playing in a small town like Alora, compared to bigger venues?
I have to say that the best place to play in the World is the 100 Club
in Oxford Street. That’s where the real jazz buffs gather. But having
said that, wherever you play, it really depends on your audience. If they
like jazz and they are enjoying it, then things go really well and it’s
a pleasure to play there.
Before I left, Gerry showed me an obviously treasured book about Bix Beiderbecke,
a man who had died at the age of 28, but had influenced Gerry in a way
that no one else had ever done. Gerry had been quoted in other interviews
as saying that once he had started listening to Bix that he had realised
they were on the same track and he had said that he had come to live the
man in a way, some people even suggesting that he looked like him too.
The strange thing was that Gerry hadn’t even heard of Bix Beiderbecke
when he had instinctively started playing in the same style as his later
hero, both evidently sprung from a similar source of genius.
And one last question. What do your kids think about
their dad? Do they give you the affection and respect that the old man
deserves?
Oh yes, he said without the slightest hesitation and with a very happy
smile, they most certainly do.
Update: we received
the following email from Gerry on the 4th September 2007:
Hello you two hope you are well, thought maybe you could update the piece
about myself as we live in the Dordogne France, and have been here a year.
I am going back to the U.K. to play at the jazz club I started 10 years
ago at their 10th anniversary on the 3rd of October. It is at the Lakeside
Country club Lyng Norfolk.
Gerry Salisbury |
