“High Society” (1938) Bunny Berigan/Joe Lippman with Georgie Auld, Joe Bushkin, Ray Conniff and Buddy Rich

“High Society”

Composed by Porter Steele and Walter Melrose; arranged by Joe Lippman.

Recorded on September 13, 1938 by Bunny Berigan and His Orchestra for Victor in New York City.

Roland B. “Bunny” Berigan, first and solo trumpet; directing: Steve Lipkins and Irving Goodman, trumpets; Nat Lobovsky, first trombone, Ray Conniff, trombone; George “Gigi” Bohn, first alto saxophone, Arcuiso “Gus” Bivona, clarinet and alto saxophone; Georgie Auld and Clyde Rounds, tenor saxophones; Joe Bushkin, piano; Dick Wharton, guitar; Frederick “Hank” Wayland, bass; Bernard “Buddy” Rich, drums.

The story:

Leading a big band on the road during the swing era was always a high-risk activity. This was true even under the best of circumstances when the band in question was being well-managed from the top down. The person managing the band at the top was not always the bandleader. Although a few bandleaders did involve themselves rather deeply in the day-to-day operations of their bands on the road or otherwise (like Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey), most did not. They worked closely with their personal manager, who in turn worked closely with their booking agency. The daily logistics of operating a big band on tour was always handled by the band’s road manager, who basically took orders from the band’s booking agency, and kept the bandleader and sidemen apprised. Excellent communication between the booking agency and the road manager was essential. In the days before cell phones, when even making a long-distance phone call was often fraught with difficulty, communication was sometimes not excellent. Even a tiny lapse could result in major difficulties for a band on tour.

Early 1938 in the offices of Music Corporation of America, L-R: Arthur Michaud, personal manager of Bunny Berigan, Berigan, and an operative from MCA. Bunny listened while the other two talked.

In the early summer of 1938, the Bunny Berigan band began to experience mix-ups on the road that were the result of failures of communication between the band’s booking agency (Music Corporation of America), and the band’s road manager at the time, a fellow named Frank Carzonne, who may not have been sufficiently experienced to anticipate the kinds of problems he encountered. These failures included MCA giving Carzonne incorrect information about play dates. In late June, the Berigan band traveled from their previous one night dance date to the ballroom at Old Orchard Beach, Maine to play a dance. When they arrived, they were informed that despite the MCA itinerary for the Berigan band that specified the night they arrived as the date for the Old Orchard Beach gig, their actual play-date was the following night. Bunny was not happy about this because he would have to pay his band while they took a day off and rode the roller-coaster at the Old Orchard Beach amusement park, with no money earned to cover that expense.

I suspect that a phone call was made to the MCA office in New York informing them of this mistake. That call should have been made by Bunny’s personal manager, Arthur Michaud, and Michaud should have pressured MCA to give Bunny some consideration for their error in the form of some money or credit against the commissions Berigan was paying to the agency in order to work. That would have at least softened the financial pinch Bunny felt because of someone else’s error. There is no historical documentation regarding any of this happening, but it may have happened. (Above left: Bunny Berigan looking over his shoulder. A combination of conflicts of interest/poor management by the people running the business side of the Berigan band and bad breaks in the summer of 1938 hit Bunny hard.)

Whatever actually did happen, the screw-ups continued to occur through the summer 1938 tour, culminating in an even more costly fiasco on September 11, when Bunny’s band and Gene Krupa’s band showed up on the same night at the same venue in Connecticut. Gene’s band was actually scheduled to play that gig. Bunny’s band was scheduled to play in a town some 45 minutes away. But this screw-up was again MCA’s fault: they gave Berigan’s road manager the wrong venue for that date. By the time the Berigan band got to the right venue, the ballroom there was closed. The gig was blown, and once again, it was not Bunny’s fault.

This hurt Bunny Berigan both personally and professionally. Contrary to stories that have circulated for many decades, Berigan was obsessive about showing up on-time for gigs with his band. On the rare occasions when he couldn’t do that, and arrived late, he would always play over at the end of the night to compensate for the minutes he was late at the beginning. He was well aware of the fact that missing a gig was an unpardonable mortal sin in the band business. The fact that he was not at fault for this latest debacle seemingly did not make any difference. The trade press played up the story with emphasis on the “humorous” aspects of it. Here is how George T. Simon at Metronome reported the Connecticut incident on page one of the October 1938 issue: “Bungled Booking – Best boner of the season occurred in Bristol, Conn., Sunday, Sept. 11. Bunny Berigan’s band had just set up for its one-nighter in the spot, when in walked Gene Krupa and crew, ready to play the same place. Hasty consulting revealed that Bunny and Boys were supposed to be over in Bridgeport! Result: Krupa worked while Bristol dancers had fun. Berigan couldn’t make job while Bridgeport hoofers cried.” As a result, Bunny was humiliated. Not surprisingly, a chill developed between Berigan and Simon.

What was not reported in the trade press then was that there was indeed more to the story – much more. Through the spring and summer of 1938, both MCA and Arthur Michaud were spending more time building the public profile of drummer Gene Krupa, who had started his own band in March of 1938. They were also spending more time managing Gene’s band. In a very real sense, these developments were a zero-sum situation for Bunny Berigan: Gene’s gains in terms of his management and promotion by MCA and Michaud, were Bunny’s losses. Confusion of the road tour itineraries of the two bands was one result of this. With no one to advocate for him, Bunny was left to basically fend for himself in dealing with these vexing situations. Berigan was sued for the blown Connecticut gig, and had to dig into his own pocket to settle that lawsuit. He had no assistance from either MCA or Michaud. He began to wonder why he was paying commissions to MCA and Michaud if they wouldn’t help him whenever he was a victim of circumstances not of his making – but of theirs.) His relationship with Arthur Michaud became strained.

As a result of these disturbing developments, Bunny began to increase his intake of alcohol. As one would expect, that did not help the situation. While the Berigan band was in Akron, Ohio in late August playing at the Palace Theater, Bunny called a rehearsal between shows, which was very unlike his normal behavior. Word of this reached lead alto saxophonist Mike Doty and clarinetist Joe Dixon while they were having lunch together in a restaurant near the theater. Both had been members of the Berigan band for over a year. They then hurried to the rehearsal. “…(W)hen we got there, he started getting really nasty with us, and that was the first time Bunny ever did that. So Mike followed him down to his dressing room, and gave his notice. I followed (a few days) later.”(1) Now, in addition to his other problems, Berigan had to find replacements for these two very good musicians while his band was on the road.

More dire developments would befall Bunny a short time later.

Nevertheless, it seems that Bunny’s luck then was not all bad. As both Mike Doty and Joe Dixon worked out their two-week notices in the Berigan band, Georgie Auld told Bunny about a musician he had recently met, saxophonist/clarinetist Gus Bivona. Bivona was working in the Hudson-Delange band, and might be looking for a change. The musicians’ grapevine went into operation and Bivona was located and talked to by Berigan on the phone. As fate would have it, the Hudson-DeLange band was then on a layoff, and several of the musicians in that band were indeed looking for other employment. In addition to Bivona, lead alto saxophonist George “Gigi” Bohn, and vocalist Jayne Dover were also looking to make a move. By the time Bunny and his band made their next Victor recording date on September 13, all three of them were members of the Berigan band.

Gigi Bohn later recalled his time with Berigan: “I joined Bunny some days before Gus Bivona, as I recall Joe Dixon playing jazz clarinet when I was with the Berigan band for a few days. I sure remember the job in Boston and the hurricane there. (Another disaster Bunny had to cope with then.) I recall Buddy Rich doing a tap-dance routine as a part of the show. I didn’t stay with Bunny too long (because of a layoff after the Boston hurricane). Bunny had a broken leg (or ankle) at the time I left. The job with Bunny was great – he was the best I ever worked for.” (2)

Bivona later added some details about the circumstances surrounding him joining Berigan: “Mike Doty and Joe Dixon quit Bunny at (about) the same time. Doty was the lead alto player and Dixon played jazz clarinet. Georgie Auld and I took a few lessons from Norman Bates in New York and became friends, and he recommended me to Bunny, and I (eventually) played both the lead alto and jazz clarinet in Bunny’s band, which was pretty rough…, but it worked out pretty good. The day of the night I joined the band, I called Bunny and asked him what color of suit to wear (to the gig). He said, ‘well do you have a brown suit’? I said no. Then he says, ‘well, then how close do you have’? I said I have a dark green. He said, ‘that’s close enough.’”(2) (Above left: Gus Bivona and Georgie Auld. Photo courtesy Gary Bivona.)

Six acceptable masters were recorded on September 13 between the hours of 1:30–7:00 p.m. One wonders when (or if) the Berigan band had the opportunity to rehearse the tunes that were recorded. (Their life on the road was chaotic, as explained [in part] above.) Bivona and vocalist Jayne Dover, had joined only the day before. Ms. Dover had three new songs to sing at the recording date. (These are details that record reviewers and critics are seldom aware of, or consider.) Legend has it that Bunny used the private party the day before to prepare the band for the recording date. However the band rehearsed the tunes to be recorded, the resulting recordings were remarkably good.

More of the band’s arrangements in the summer of 1938 were being written by Andy Phillips, especially those on current pop tunes. But Joe Lippman was still contributing many of the charts the Berigan band was recording, especially those on “special” material. His wonderful arrangement on “High Society” definitely fits into the “special” category.

The music:

The venerable “High Society” (composed in 1901), is recast here in the finery of swing by Joe Lippman. The jaunty clarinet-led reeds (probably three B-flat clarinets with Gus Bivona playing lead, and Georgie Auld’s tenor saxophone), play call and response in the first chorus with the Berigan-led brass, which play the melody, and set the stage for a series of excellent jazz solos. Check out the popping brass jump that catapults Georgie Auld into his solo. Auld (pictured at right) comes in with a big sigh (calling Mr. {Herschel} Evans!) on his saxophone, to start sixteen bars of solid, rhythmically intense jazz. Young Mr. Auld had progressed light-years in his jazz playing in the eighteen months he had been in Berigan’s employ.

Joe Bushkin (shown at left) swings nicely on piano (hear drummer Buddy Rich behind him), and then a fanfare by the band (Steve Lipkins on first trumpet here) brings Berigan on. In this solo, he is at his best on open trumpet; his sixteen-bar jazz solo is a perfectly constructed, flowing musical statement delivered with his usual brio and burnished trumpet tone.

Ray Conniff follows with some strutting trombone, and then the band rocks through the exuberant out-chorus, with Berigan adding zest to the ensemble with his fiery lead trumpet playing.

Trumpeter Irving Goodman, and trombonists Ray Conniff and Nat Lobovsky with the Berigan band – autumn 1938.

“High Society” is a quintessential Berigan recording and a superb example of swing era jazz. It is one of the relatively few Victor recordings made by Bunny that captures the irrepressible panache of the 1938 Berigan band. When this recording was made, Berigan was leading the best band he ever led, indeed one of the best of the swing era. (Many of the musicians in this band went on to have long and successful careers.)

A key performer in this band was the not yet 21-year-old drummer Buddy Rich. His six-month tenure with the Berigan band, roughly the second half of 1938, was his first big-time jazz gig. Rich was a phenomenon as a drummer even in 1938. Although he would slowly alter his style of drumming over his career, he always had incredible technique, and immense exuberance, and a knack for imparting great rhythmic color and drive to any band he played in. That is clearly evident in his playing on this recording. (At left: Buddy Rich in the late 1930s.)