# Clark Terry is a man of many parts

- Link: https://jazzblues.eu/2017/08/28/clark-terry-man-many-parts/
- Published: 2017-08-28T18:22:18+01:00
- Author: https://JazzBlues.EU

**He is a staff musician at NBC in New York; he is one of the city’s most sought-
after trumpeters for recording dates of every description, from jazz to jingles;
he leads his own quartet and has recently formed a big band. He teaches college 
and high school band clinics; he tours with Jazz at the Philharmonic; he is president
of a new music production company—and he is, of course, one of the most original
and personal trumpet stylists in jazz. **

The man behind these varied activities is warm, relaxed and outgoing, never harried
in spite of his busy schedule. To say that he is well liked would be an understatement.
Even those who are envious of his success can find nothing bad to say about him 
and have to content themselves with sneering at his commercial activities.

To Terry, there is no conflict between his commitment to jazz and his more worldly
musical involvements.

“I made up my mind when I came into town that I would answer as many calls as I 
could,” he said recently. “I like to do a variety of playing. I never did feel that
an instrumentalist should settle too much in one groove; you should be able to do
anything on the horn. Some ultramodernists look down their noses at studio work 
and say it’s not creative. On the contrary … it keeps you ready.”

It was in late 1959 that Terry, then 39, decided to come off the road and settle
in New York. His last job had been with the Quincy Jones Band in the ill fated Free
and Easy touring company that traveled in Europe. Before that he had put in eight
years with Duke Ellington, three with Count Basie, and shorter time with Charlie
Barnet, Lionel Hampton, Eddie Vinson, and various other bands, beginning with George
Hudson in Terry’s home town of St. Louis, Missouri.

Thus, he brings considerable first-class experience to his new avocation of big-
band leadership. The Terry band was formed early this year.

“People had been saying to me, ‘Why don’t you get a big band,’ and it looked like
it might be a good idea,” he said. “It seems like big bands are coming back. Thad
Jones and Mel Lewis have been pretty successful, and New York should be big enough
for two jazz bands.

“With the personnel we have, the main problem is getting everyone together at the
same time. They’re all pretty busy people. But we’ve had beautiful results in this
short period.”

The busy people in the band include trumpeters Ernie Royal, Marvin Stamm, Jimmy 
Owens, and Randy Brecker; trombonists Melba Liston, James Cleveland, Tony Studd,
and Wayne Andre; reed men Phil Woods, Bobby Donovan, Zoot Sims, Frank Wess, and 
Danny Bank; pianist Don Friedman; bassist Ron Carter; and drummer Grady Tate.

Arrangements are by Liston, Woods, Allan Faust and Rick Henderson, a former Ellington
colleague of Terry’s and the band’s “utility reed man—we always seem to be short
one man.”

“The music is very fresh,” Terry continued. “Phil’s approach to writing is especially
exciting.”

At rehearsals, Terry’s lively sense of humor keeps the atmosphere happy and relaxed,
and his complete musicianship is fully evident. He has a unique, extremely effective
way of counting off: “One, two, you-know-what-to-do.” It’s funny, it works, and 
one wonders why nobody thought of it before.

“The enthusiasm in the band is tremendous,” Terry said with pride. “And we have 
good subs—we’re developing a bench like a baseball team.”

The band’s first official booking is at the Greenwood Lake, N.Y. Jazz Festival July
20–22, but Terry hopes to have the band ready to perform in public some weeks before
then.

“We’ll probably do some Monday nights at the Half Note; they’ve enlarged the bandstand.
We had some rehearsals there, but now we start them so late that it isn’t practical.
We’ve been approached for some social-club dances in the fall, and we intend to 
play for dancers. If you hope to bring back big bands, that’s one sure way of getting
to the kids.”

Terry described his music company, Etoile Music, Inc., which he operates in partnership
with Liston and Woods, as “the backbone of the band.” In its offices in the Times
Square area, the writing and copying of the arrangements are done.

“We’re also set up to record, manage, produce, provide any kind of service in the
line of music,” he added. “We’ve even done a couple of rock ’n’ roll things that
will hit the market soon. And we booked our first date recently: a thing in Pennsylvania
for Phil, with my rhythm section.”

Currently, Terry is commuting to Jazz at the Philharmonic dates, mostly on weekends.
He gets back in time to do the _Tonight Show_ taping on Mondays.

“It’s a ball to go back on the road,” he said. It gives me a few more hours for 
sleeping than I’m used to. I get a chance to rest up; with only two concerts a night
you can sleep in daytime. Traveling conditions are much better than they used to
be—when we got to where we were staying, they used to have to carry the iron lung
from door to door!”

Terry’s chronic lack of sleep arises from his busy schedule when he stays in town.
He knows that when a musician is called for a record or jingle date “you can’t say
no—if you do, you get scratched off a number of lists. Going out of town, of course,
is a good excuse, provided you don’t stay out too long.”

He also does quite a bit of nightclub and concert work with his quartet and, occasionally,
with his old partner, trombonist Bob Brookmeyer. (“In fact, we’re going to the London
House in Chicago in August for two weeks.”) He was a judge at the Villanova Intercollegiate
Jazz Festival in March. He has done a few clinics this year and has a few more coming
up in Illinois and Iowa.

“They’re fun to do,” he said of the clinics. “Most of them include a concert as 
well. I get on well with the kids, and there is lots of interest in big bands. I
get requests from all sorts of places, but to accept them all would be a physical
impossibility.”

As an indication of the kind of talent that can come out of the collegiate music
scene, Terry cites trumpeters Brecker and Stamm, both in his band, and “both fantastic
players.”

Terry is, naturally, pleased that his services are in demand.

“To see this acceptance by the public is heartening. It’s very gratifying, and it
makes me work harder and try harder.”

A contributing factor to Terry’s popularity has been his singing, particularly the
humor-filled wordless blues patter he calls “mumbles.” He’d never expected this 
joking to take hold.

He explained how the original recording came about: “I was doing the _Oscar Peterson
Trio Plus One_ date, and it went down so smoothly—we finished all the numbers in
one take—that we were just sitting around gassing, with plenty of time on our hands.
I wanted to make a party tape; just put it on and see people’s reactions, and Oscar
was for it. So we worked out a routine, and when we did it, Oscar fell on the floor.‘
This has got to go on the album,’ he said. So we worked out two numbers…

“It was really my version of a put-on of old blues singers. St. Louis had lots of
what you might call blues festivals, get-togethers where one singer after the other
would come up and do his blues. Feeling mattered more than what was being sung about.
Some guy would start singing about a chick in the audience, and it didn’t matter
what the words were, as long as the groove kept going.

“I’ve always loved to listen to blues singers, from way back, but even on my records
at home, there’d always be one or two lines you couldn’t make out. The feeling is
what counts. From just fooling around like that, I decided to do some straight-life
singing, on tunes that don’t require a balladeer’s voice, like ‘Gee, Baby’ or ‘I
Want A Little Girl,’ and I found that there was a market for that, too. We have 
some arrangements in the big band for that.”

Terry’s singing, like that of other fine jazz instrumentalists, is a happy and engaging
reflection of his personality, and ‘Mumbles,’ when done in person, comes out just
a little differently each time. At benefits or festivals, after lengthy sets of “
serious” jazz, the singing is a delightful change of pace.

In addition to playing trumpet and singing, Terry doubles on flugelhorn. He has 
used it since his Ellington days and even does a specialty, wherein he alternates
phrases on trumpet and flugelhorn. But he does a lot of serious playing on the large-
bored horn, too.

“I found it to have a more intimate feeling and sound,” he explained. “You don’t
have to use the same vicious attack as on the trumpet. I use it for a change of 
pace, like a pitcher with a fastball and a curve. It’s really an extension for one’s
expression.”

The big horn is becoming increasingly popular, Terry noted with pleasure.

“They allow it on staff as a double now; before, it wasn’t quite recognized as a
legitimate instrument. Many of the new sounds in jingle music are geared to the 
flugelhorn sound. It can be used in many combinations: with winds, with trombones.
There are many ways to use it effectively.”

The use of flugelhorns is not the only positive factor Terry finds in today’s commercial
jingles. “They seem to be writing better music for jingles now than you hear on 
a lot of the jazz programs,” he said. “You can turn on your radio and hear some 
good jazz on the commercials. Jazz seems to be a good medium for selling—it doesn’t
have to be corny.”

Terry explained that he enjoys the challenges involved in the careful timing required
for this kind of functional music: “It has to be worked out to the precise second.
You may have to make a 5/4 bar out of a 4/4 bar, cut bars, put in irregularities.
And when you get the chance, it’s good to get that little bit of your own in … .”

As a network staff musician, Terry is a member of the still far too small minority
of Negro musicians in such jobs—roughly a dozen among the 195 men employed by the
three major networks in New York. To Terry, the job means more than mere security.

“I like to think,” he explained, “that I’m supposed to prove to nonbelievers that
they can believe—that we can do what’s required, and that proving this has made 
things just a little more comfortable.”

“I have to think of more than just my gig. I’m representing all the people who’d
like to do the kind of work I’m doing. I have to think ahead—I feel that I’m not
doing it just for myself, but that I’m representing the Negro in [the music profession].”

Asked his opinion of the current state of jazz, Terry replied that he finds it difficult
to evaluate. “It seems great for some, bad for others,” he said. “I guess it’s always
been that way. But in some cities, there are no places now to hear jazz. It’s terrible
if a town can’t support at least one or two places, even just for the local musicians.”

But on the whole, Terry is optimistic: “I don’t think that jazz will ever die. There’ll
always be somebody playing some kind of jazz somewhere, and somebody will come and
listen to it. The kids have been smothered with rock ’n’ roll, but it looks as if
they’re getting tired of that and want to hear good melodies with a good swinging
feeling. It may be ‘old hat’ to us, but it’s new to them.

“Jazz goes through a lot of phases, but it always comes back to foot-patting music.
I like to hear some of the new things that are being tried. I don’t mind a cat going
way out, as long as he comes back. Some of it is successful, some not.

“I like to stay abreast of everything that’s going on. A lot of times I have to 
subsidize my own yen for jazz. I do benefits and small-paying gigs. I’ll take a 
sideman’s fee for the sake of someone who needs it more. I think of those things
primarily because nobody was thinking of them on my behalf when I was coming up.”

Terry is aware of the danger of becoming stale and stagnant: “Being satisfied and
just grooving is an unwise thing to do. As the old saying goes, the only difference
between a groove and a grave is the dimensions. You can’t let the world go by.

“I learned many things from the older guys, like Duke and Coleman Hawkins. They 
surrounded themselves with youth, and they always managed to keep their minds open—
not necessarily in the sense of accepting everything that comes along, but in being
open to it. You shouldn’t close your mind and your ears to everything that’s going
on; you should at least hear it out. Bean or Maestro wouldn’t be as fresh and interesting
in their ideas as they are if they had closed their minds to youth.”

It is clear that success has not spoiled Clark Terry.

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