The Best Doo Wop Club On The Net
The Doo Wop Cafe is dedicated to preserving the best music there ever was ... vocal group harmony of the 1950s. 
We also love "Oldies" of all kinds and R&B. 
But, most of all, we believe in having fun along the way !  Come and join us.


THE BEBOP SINGERS by Billy Vera

If America is the land of opportunity, it is also the land of individuality, the place where the individual is king, where the celebration of the Self supersedes all other pursuits.  While all this narcissistic behavior can often make sharing the streets with one's countrymen unpleasant, it can make for some highly entertaining times in the world of entertainment and the arts.

During the first two-thirds of the 20th century, among black performers and musicians of a certain age, there was a saying, "If you ain't different, you ain't shit," giving voice to the show biz axiom that, in order to be successful, one must find a "sound," a "look" or a persona which set one apart.  The idea was to be instantly recognizable.  The biggest stars were those who looked and sounded like no one else.  Louis Armstrong.  Bing Crosby.  W. C. Fields.  The Marx Brothers.  Nat King Cole.  Elvis.  Marilyn Monroe.









Especially in the field of black entertainment, where the competition was most stiff, was this pursuit of individuality most extreme. Coles & Atkins were a great tap dance team?  Stump & Stumpy could do it on one leg.

One of the things which set Armstrong apart was what came to be known as scat singing.  Although in Satchmo's case, thanks to his lifelong, daily use of marijuana, his scatting was more the result of short-term memory loss.  Armstrong's friend and fellow originator of jazz singing, Bing Crosby, was one of the first to add lyrics to a jazz solo, in his case quoting Bix Beiderbecke, on Bing's hit, "Someday Sweetheart."  This was years before the practice became known as "vocalese."

Leo Watson turned scatting into an art form during the 1930s.  Watson later advised tap dancer Eddie Jefferson to try the same thing, only using words, as had Crosby.  Jefferson spiced up his dance routines thusly and, as bebop grew in popularity, these "vocalese" performances became a bigger part of his act, culminating in Eddie's verbalization of James Moody's solo on "I'm In The Mood For Love," appropriated and popularized by King Pleasure in 1952.

In the wake of Pleasure's hit, "Moody Mood For Love," Jefferson recorded a couple more Moody juke box faves for the short-lived Hi-Lo label.  One of these was "Body And Soul."  A few years later, Eddie would record a completely different version of the tune, to the famous Coleman Hawkins 1938 solo, for Herb Abramson's Triumph label. On "The Birdland Story," also recorded for Hi-Lo, Eddie relates the tale of Moody's encounter with Charlie Parker at that famous nightclub.  Babs Gonzales spun a similar tale on "The James Moody Story," on Mercury.  Both singers acted as Moody's road managers and self-appointed press agents-in-song.

Taking a break from Moody-mania, Jefferson assailed Lester Young's "Lester Leaps In," calling his version "I Got The Blues," which he revisited, three years later, on Prestige and, still later for Abramson.

Often hailed as the first bebop singer is Babs Gonzales, although Billy Eckstine was scatting, in a bopping manor, on "(I Love The) Rhythm In A Riff" for National in 1945, two years before Babs formed his Babs' Three Bips & A Bop.  The group, which included famed arranger Tadd Dameron, cut "Oop-Pop-A-Da" in 1947 for Blue Note. Dizzy covered the tune, without crediting Babs as writer, for RCA Victor, with a vocal by Kenny Hagood.

"Oop-Pop-A-Da" was to be Babs's biggest number, but he kept recording for the next two decades, often at his own expense, either on his own labels or leasing his masters to other companies.  One example of the latter is "The Boss Is Back," his take on Charlie Parker's "Ornithology," which we recently reissued on Savoy Jazz.  Only two of the four tunes listed in discographies remain in Savoy's vault, so one can assume that Babs made off with the two unreleased items.

In his early days, Babs recorded for Apollo, Manor and Capitol.  The early 50s saw him on King, with one of my favorites, "Shuckin' And Jivin'," covered by no less than Dinah Washington.  On his own Babs label, he cut the locally popular "Cool Whalin'," basically a list of tunes which were jazzmen's favorites.  Prestige had Rudy Ferguson pay tribute with "Cool Groovin'," itself a list of current R&B hits.

Gonzales, who was always the consummate hustler, peddling his two self-published autobiographies, I Paid My Dues and Movin On Down De Line, backstage and at clubs, also knew the commercial value of the Yule Season.  To this end, he recorded, on his own dime, "Bebop Santa Claus," released on Bruce and Essex, "Rock'n'Roll Santa Claus" on End and "Teenage Santa Claus" on Atlas.

Some of his tunes seem designed to reap revenge on certain Harlem aquaintences for some real or imagined slight.  "House Rent Party," backed by Jack Dupree, and "Hairdressin' Women," on his own Crazy label, fall into this category.  Also in this category and on Crazy are "Celebrity House Party" and "Dem Jive New Yorkers."  Even on "Dem Bums Are Back Again," his tribute to the Brooklyn Dodgers, Babs is pissed.  Clearly, this was not a happy period for Gonzales.

For what seems to be his own Debut label (it is definitely not the Charles Mingus-owned label of the same name), Babs celebrates his self-image as a slick cat, with "No Fools, No Fun."  The same subject matter is covered, this time in the third person, on his masterpiece, "Manhattan Fable," where "a rube from the lowlands" named Eddie attempts to make his way in Harlem, falls in love with a girl, peddles drugs to earn enough money to impress her and winds up being arrested when his dealer and a local cop on the take conspire to put an end to the poor boob.  It all ends when "Eddie's off the scene, his jeans is clean and he didn't cop his queen."

Jazz great Benny Golson offers the following remembrance:
"One night he came into Small's Paradise in Harlem with a lovely young lady. I was appearing there with The Jazz Messengers, which included Lee Morgan and Bobby Timmons. They took a seat directly in front of us. Babs was well dressed that evening and acting the part of a very refined gentleman ... to our surprise. That evening he was not transporting himself on his motor scooter which had become a part of his comings and goings. As the evening progressed, he ordered drink after drink, and his recently acquired smooth and refined personality began to take up residence in times past. He had now become a bit obnoxious and very demonstrative, which was embarrassing his date, who seemed to be just as refined as he when he entered. Some where in the middle of the second set, Babs slipped from his chair onto the floor and was very content to remain there under the table, uttering unintelligible sounds. This is when the young lady departed without him at her side. The real Babs Gonzales had come to the fore con brio. Reality had triumphed once again."

To say that Babs was a real whack job would require no stretch of the imagination.  The mentally ill make up a large percentage of the show biz population.  Rather than seeking help for them, we the public encourage them in their madness, either because it is entertaining or because we place them on such a high pedestal that we can't see them for what they are.  For the most part, the nuttiness is benign, only hurting the artists themselves and those unlucky enough to be part of their families.

Like Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie knew the value of connecting with an audience.  To this end, Diz included a number of comic novelty vocal numbers in his repertoire.  Unlike Armstrong, however, Gillespie was not much of a singer, so he hired, first, Kenny Hagood and later, Joe Carroll to fill the vocalist role.

"Oo Bop Sh'Bam," in 1946, came first.  It was covered in a big band version by Billy Eckstine, which included a killer Gene Ammons tenor break.  The aforementioned "Oop-Pop-A-Da" was a juke box hit and led to other bits of madness, like "Ool-Ya-Koo," "Jump Did-Le Ba" and "In The Land Of Oo-Bla-Dee," written and originally recorded by pianist Mary Lou Williams on King.  On the Williams version, Hagood takes the vocal, while Carroll sings on the Diz.

In an earlier era, Dizzy and Joe would've made a great vaudeville team.  Some of Carroll's finest moments with Gillespie are "Honeysuckle Rose" on Capitol, where he's listed as Joseph Paul Carroll and, later, on Diz's Dee Gee label, the pair continues the tradition of
sounds-rather-than-words with "Ooh-Shoo-Bee-Doo-Bee."  They turn Gershwin's "Oh! Lady Be Good" inside out, with Joe making reference to the Clovers' hit "Lovey Dovey" and Milt Jackson playing the opening piano riff from Amos Milburn's "Bad, Bad Whiskey."

In a bebop homage, the two reconstruct a pair of Satchmo's most famous numbers, "On The Sunny Side Of The Street" and "I'm Confessin' (That I Love You)," showing that Dizzy had listened to, and absorbed, the lessons of Satch.

King Pleasure aka Clarence Beeks, after hitting with "Moody Mood For Love," disappeared from the scene, only to return, a few years later, with vocalese versions of Lester Young's "Jumpin' With Symphony Sid, Charlie Parker's "Parker's Mood," Moody's "NJR," which becomes "I'm Gone."  On the latter, Pleasure is joined by Eddie Jefferson and Irv Taylor in a kind of vocalese summit meeting. 

On "Red Top," based on the Gene Ammons interpretation of the Lionel Hampton hit, Pleasure duets with an unknown-at-the-time Betty Carter.  Betty had sung with Hamp in 1949 as "Betty Bebop."  She later became famous on an album of duets with Ray Charles that included the juke box favorite, "Baby It's Cold Outside."

After these Prestige recordings, King Pleasure again absconds, returning from time to time, to record for Aladdin, a remake of "Moody Mood," Jubilee, "Diaper Pin," and United Artists, yet another remake of "Moody Mood," this time with strings and under its original title, after which he left the scene yet again, this time under mysterious circumstances.  He hasn't surfaced yet.

Eddie Jefferson cut a version of "I'm In The Mood For Love" for Checker with Moody's band and, again, for Herb Abramson.  Esther Phillips did an outstanding version for Roulette, singing both parts herself, and the Manhattan Transfer, among others, have had their way with this classic.

The most famous of all the bebop vocal acts were Lambert, Hendricks & Ross.  The three came from various backgrounds.  Dave Lambert, with Buddy Stewart, had one of the first bebop vocal hits in 1945, with Gene Krupa's band, "What's This."  With Charlie Barnet's band, the two cut "Bebop Spoken Here," more of a novelty.

Stewart went on to record with Charlie Ventura on National and, under his own name with Wardell Gray, for Sittin' In With.  Lambert formed the Dave Lamert Singers and wrote the Wynonie Harris hit, "Lovin' Machine" with one O.O. Merritt, described to me by Jon Hendricks as "just one of those strange cats who hung around the Village."  The tune was covered in a surprisingly hip version by Teresa Brewer...with no changes to the original, somewhat risque lyric!

Jon Hendricks, too, wrote some R&B tunes.  In his case, the perfect fit for his sense of humor was Louis Jordan, who recorded Jon's "I'll Die Happy," "Messy Bessy" and, most famously, "I Want You To Be My Baby."  The latter became a huge hit as recorded by Lillian Briggs and covered by Georgia Gibbs.

Hendricks put words to Sam "The Man" Taylor's solo on Claude Cloud's "Cloudburst" and recorded it for Decca, backed by the Dave Lambert Singers.  LH&R would later record a more famous version.

The third member, Annie Ross, was raised by the musical star, Ella Logan, usually said to be her aunt, although some claim was her mother.  As a child actress, Annie appeared in one of the Our Gang comedies.  After a sojourn in Paris, she came home and recorded for Dee Gee in 1952 with drummer Kenny Clarke and Milt Jackson.  She wasn't doing vocalese yet, but she managed to mangle the lyrics to an otherwise lovely "The Way You Look Tonight."  For Prestige, she put words to Wardell Gray's solos on "Twisted," "Farmer's Market" and "Jackie," all of which she would revisit with LH&R.

Another female of some note is Betty Roche, who, with tenor saxophonist Paul Gonsalves and Duke Ellington's Orchestra, made a true classic in 1951 of "Take The `A' Train," with Betty scatting up a storm.  There are, of course, many more jazz and scat singers, well-known and not, such as Jimmy Scott, Jackie Paris, Mel Torme, Chet Baker and Ella Fitzgerald, not to mention the numerous Kenton chicks, Anita O'Day, June Christy, Chris Connor and Ann Richards, but space precludes more than a mention.

Mention should be  made of New York arranger Teacho Wiltshire, whose place in all this is pretty important.  He was the arranger on records by Ross, Pleasure and others in the short-lived vocalese movement.

As a popular fad, vocalese was pretty much over by 1955.  Blues singer Tommy "Weepin' & Cryin'" Brown did a vocal of Bill Doggett's "Honky Tonk" in 1956 and, from time to time, some attempt to revive the style, but it never really caught on in a big way.  Still, it would be hard to find even a minor jazz fan who didn't smile at the first few notes of "There I go, there I go, there I go..."