Charlie Parker on Tenor
The music of Charlie Parker has been put under the microscope more than the music of just about any other jazz musician. His style of writing and improvising was not just an inspiration for other saxophonists, but the benchmark for every player who followed. Considering it was his main instrument, it is no surprise that there have been scores of studies and analyses of his work on the alto saxophone. However, there has not been a significant study of Charlie Parker’s work on tenor saxophone.
The only available recordings of Parker on tenor are of jam sessions from 1943, a Miles Davis-led studio date from 1947, and another Miles Davis session from 1953. While his output on tenor pales in comparison to that of his alto, looking at his history and approach on the bigger horn does provide interesting insight regarding his playing.
It is important to note that Parker’s musical genealogy and overall playing did have some roots in the tenor saxophone. Some of the musicians he admired most were tenor saxophonists. His great love for the playing of tenor legend Chu Berry was shown in the name of Parker’s first child Francis Leon Smith, “Francis is for Francis Scott Key, and Leon is for Mr. Leon ‘Chu’ Berry, the greatest saxophonist that ever lived.”[1]
Like many jazz musicians whose formative years coincided with the swing era, Parker had a fascination with Lester Young. His adoration for Young has previously been the topic of conversation in jazz lore. One bold example is Gene Ramey discussing how Charlie Parker memorized Lester Young solos during his developmental years. Ramey is quoted:
In the summer of 1937, Bird underwent a radical change musically. He got a job with a little band led by a singer, George E. Lee. They played at country resorts in the mountains. Charlie took with him all the Count Basie records with Lester Young solos on them and learned Lester cold, note for note… Well, that Jones-Smith record come out, and Prez had made that “Lady Be Good.” And Bird came back and he startled everybody.[2]
In the first set of recordings made of Parker on tenor, he plays a lengthy section of Lester Young’s famous solo from the song “Shoe Shine Boy,” making this the second confirmed Young solo he memorized at least in part. This set of recordings, which were recorded by Bob Redcross in his Chicago hotel room, offer not just an initial glimpse of Charlie Parker on tenor saxophone, but the first recording of Parker and Dizzy Gillespie as well. It is worth explaining why Parker was even playing tenor saxophone during these recordings. Towards the very end of 1942, the tenor saxophone chair was vacant in the Earl Hines orchestra. As Gunther Schuller wrote:
Not having the composer arranger talent of an Ellington or a Henderson, and lacking the clear vision of how the band should sound that Basie or Webb had, Hines failed to exploit Budd Johnson, who probably had the ability to forge a distinctive orchestral conception, but was never really encouraged to do so.[3]
Hines’s failure to recognize and use his band members’ unique talents would arguably be the cause of many great players leaving his band prematurely. However, the tenor saxophone chair was up for grabs, and band members like Dizzy Gillespie and George “Scoops” Carry encouraged Hines to hire Charlie Parker, who had just been released by the Jay McShann band, to fill the chair.
When Budd Johnson’s tenor saxophone “chair opened up in December of 1942, Hines’s alto saxophonist George “Scoops” Carry brought Hines to a club to hear Parker. Hines was told that Parker would switch over from alto to tenor sax, and Hines was willing to buy Parker a new one. Evidently, Parker was not cleanly and decisively out of the McShann band, because Hines felt he had to approach McShann to get his release on Parker.[4]
It would not take long for Parker to show the true price of hiring him. Soon after being hired, Parker owed money to everybody in the band, and the new tenor saxophone was gone. While Parker’s personal problems that lost him his last job with McShann would continue to be problematic during his time with Hines, the legendary pianist later spoke highly of Parker’s skills:
I never heard so much tenor horn in my life… You know how the guy got all over that alto; you know that he was just as bad [meaning good] on tenor… Charlie was a good section man, and a very good reader… I mean, he was a musician.[5]
Around this time it is also said that Parker garnered the attention of another Kansas City bread saxophonist of the highest quality, Ben Webster:
Charlie’s fleet execution on the tenor at first confounded Ben Webster… After walking into Minton’s one night and seeing Charlie on stage, Webster protested “What the hell is that up there? Man is that cat crazy?” Webster, who was a balladeer at heart, strode up to the band stand and snatched the tenor out of Charlie’s hand and proclaimed, “That horn ain’t s’posed to sound that fast.” Later that night, Webster changed his tune, walking all over town telling musicians “Man I heard a guy—I swear he is going to make everybody crazy on tenor.”[6]
While the Hines band was in Chicago in February of 1943, Parker would join a few other players, including Dizzy Gillespie and Oscar Pettiford, in Bob Redcross’s room at the Savoy Hotel. Redcross would record multiple jam sessions in the hotel with Parker playing the tenor. Parker’s playing on these recordings reflects the influence of jazz’s greatest tenor saxophonists. One of the best recordings of these sessions is “Sweet Georgia Brown.” As Carl Woideck wrote:
“Sweet Georgia Brown” is performed at a “medium swing”… although the tempo varies. Parker’s two lengthy solos are bursting with ideas and represent some of his best work of the period. His long eighth-note lines swing with compelling power… Parker also seems inspired by the presence of trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie who not only solos inventively, but also audibly urges Parker on.[7]
Woideck also discusses the influence of other tenor players in Parker’s solo on “Sweet Georgia Brown,” citing the growl and rasp of Coleman Hawkins and Chu Berry, and the alternate fingerings found in the playing of Lester Young. Parker also shows some of his original genius in this recording as well:
“Sweet Georgia Brown” contains many brief examples of a melodic device that would become characteristic of Parker’s post- 1944 work, the “chromatic passing tone…” nonharmonic tones that continue a downward or upward melodic line by chromatically filling in between two tones that are part of the prevailing scale or harmony.[8]
As previously mentioned, Parker quotes Lester Young’s famous “Shoe Shine Boy” solo during these sessions. When the group played Coleman Hawkins’s calling card, “Body and Soul,” Parker has a few phrases that are a little reminiscent of Hawkins’s playing, as well as Lester Young’s playing.
Compared to his tone on alto saxophone at this time, his tone on tenor seems more conventional and less abrasive. Listening to Parker’s tone, I noticed the sound is not far removed from Chu Berry’s tone on many of the recordings Berry made with Roy Eldridge. The Redcross recordings are fascinating because they show Parker still playing like a student. He is not using much of his own language yet, he is playing along with records, and he still sounds like he is putting himself together. However, he is stepping out of the shadows of his influences, and showing an individual style. As Koch puts it, “the solos are lengthy and provide an illuminating look at the developmental stages of bebop, but the lack of harmonic support makes examination a chore.”[9] This lack of harmonic support is the fault of the guitarist, who was unable to keep the form in many of the recordings. However, the accompanist’s shortcomings arguably caused Parker to try playing along with recordings. One recording was Hazel Scott’s 1942 rendition of “Embraceable You.”
While the Redcross recordings offer a look at Parker’s playing during the latter part of his development, the recordings of him playing tenor with Miles Davis in August 1947 and January 1953 provide a look at a professional Parker on the big horn. Unlike the Redcross recordings, the Davis sessions serve as a way to compare Parker with himself rather than his influences. By the time of these recordings, Parker found his own voice, and it is interesting to see what carries over and what adapts between his alto and tenor playing. Much like the Redcross sessions, Parker’s tone on tenor compared to his tone on alto is much smoother and conventional sounding.
With the 1947 recordings, I thought it would be interesting to compare Parker’s tone on both horns. By raising the recording of his tenor playing seven half steps, we are able to hear Parker’s tenor playing sounding in the range of an alto. Interestingly enough, Parker’s tone on tenor sounds remarkably close to his alto playing when the pitch is raised. Upon first hearing the difference in tone, I assumed he sounded so different because he was uncomfortable. However, the eerie similarity between the tones using the edited tenor version may show that, arguably, his approach to tone quality does not change while playing the different horns. It is possible that Parker’s unique tone on alto is a product of overblowing, and when he puts the same amount of air into the tenor, his tone quality sounds less harsh and more conventional. Furthermore, while Parker was more comfortable playing alto, it is possible that his way of moving air through the saxophone is more suitable for the tenor horn than the alto.
Parker’s tenor playing shows fascinating departures from his alto playing beyond just tone quality. It is worth noting that throughout the entire session in August of 1947, there is no extended sixteenth-note run. He uses occasional sixteenth-notes as well as triplets, but he does not do any double time runs. It is possible that, since Miles Davis was acting as the bandleader while still a current member of Parker’s band, Parker did not want to upstage Davis on his own session. In other words, this Davis’s day, and Parker’s strong voice on alto and his association with Davis threatened to overshadow the young trumpeter. Evidence for this argument is Parker’s willingness to play sixteenth note runs throughout the Redcross recordings, as well as the 1953 recordings. While there is no way to know for sure, it seems likely that this reserved approach is for Davis’s benefit rather than Parker’s being uncomfortable. The fact that Parker was on tenor saxophone at all during this session was Davis’s idea, and Carl Woideck wrote in his book about that and other observations about the session:
On the Miles Davis date that featured Parker playing tenor sax, Parker’s tenor timbre is consistent with his earlier work on that horn in that it is streamlined, without pronounced vibrato, rasp, or growl. It is not perhaps as luch and sensuous as before, sounding a little more blunt and less incisive; Parker was reportedly playing on a borrowed horn. Miles Davis had specifically wanted Parker to play the tenor, and, indeed, a trumpet-tenor sax front line became increasingly popular in bop and hard bop styles.[10]
Parker’s use of formulas may show a certain lack of comfort on the larger horn. While Parker is generally a formulaic player, and used certain licks in certain places throughout his career, it has been discussed in class how he seemed to depend on them more when he was not in an ideal musical situation. In order to analyze his use of formulas, I used the list of formulas from Thomas Owens’s 1974 PhD dissertation and marked any formulas I found.
Looking at the analysis for “Sippin’ at Bells,” it is interesting that most of the formulas spotted are ornaments. In measure one, Parker used M. 7b, which is two sixteenth notes, descending by half notes, and leading into a phrase. The note being stressed using this formula is the first eighth note of the phrase, while the sixteenth notes serve as a form of pick-up. In measure four, we see one of the most common Parker formulas, M. 2Ab. This formula is simply a mordent followed by a second, third or even a fourth. This formula is more or less an ornamented eighth note pattern, however instead of playing the E-flat to D, Parker ads an upper neighbor and return to the E-flat. Since this formula is so easy and basic, Parker is able to use it in many places during the twenty-four-measure solo: measure eleven, measure sixteen, and measure twenty. Another formula used in this solo is Parker’s most frequently used, M.1A. This formula consists of a minor, or sometimes major, arpeggio, with the fourth note in the series serving as the target note. In this solo alone, Parker uses M.1A in measure nine, measure ten, measure thirteen, and measure twenty-two.
Besides those formulas, I found a slight variation of formula M.4Cb in measure fourteen, and formula M.4Ea in measure thirteen. While I could not find formulas to match the phrases in measures two and three, measures five through nine, measures eighteen and nineteen, or measures twenty-three and twenty-four, the lines sounded like standard Parker playing.
The analysis for “Half Nelson” also shows Parker using primarily ornamental formulas. M. 2A appears five times during the thirty-two bar solo, and M. 7 appears three times. Surprisingly, formula M. 1A is only used once. Again, many of the unmarked parts of the solo seem like typical Parker language—like the circled part in measure sixteen—though I could not spot a corresponding formula on Owens’s list. I find it interesting that over the CMaj7 in measures five and six as well as in measures twenty-one and twenty-two, Parker uses the same formula. This formula—consisting of an A, followed by a B, then a C, and ending a forth down on a G—is not listed by Owens, but Parker uses it twice in this solo. Perhaps his use of formulas similar parts of the form shows discomfort with the horn or the tune. However, it could be argued that Parker used this to bring a sort of unity to the solo. Either way, I think it is interesting that he would use the same phrase-ending formula twice in the same solo.
The most interesting use of formulas occurs in his solo for “Little Willie Leaps.” Again, Parker frequently uses M. 1A, M. 2A, and M. 7. However, in this solo, Parker keeps repeating formula M. 20. H uses it first in measure three, then in measure nineteen, and last starting on beat four of measure twenty-nine. This is a formula that Parker plays exclusively in the key of B-flat when he plays alto. However, since Parker is on the B-flat transposing instrument, instead of an E-flat transposing instrument, it is not surprising that he is using a B-flat lick even though this song is in F, since the fingering would be the same for Parker.
Another interesting observation is Parker’s use of chromatic passing tones. It was discussed that Parker was starting to show use of chromatic passing tones throughout the Redcross recordings, but he uses these passing tones much more consistently throughout each solo. Throughout all three solos, Parker creates much interest in his solos with his use of passing tones in ascending and descending lines, but the most noteworthy is his use of chromatic passing tones in his solo break for “Little Willie Leaps.” Parker starts by outlining a Dmin7 chord, and then goes down chromatically, enclosing the A natural on beat one of the second measure of the break. He then descends in half steps until landing on the F natural on beat three. Parker’s use of passing tones is indicative of his alto playing at the time, but Carl Woideck points out aspects of this solo break point to some of his influences:
Both Parker’s tenor sax timbre and the break’s overall contour are somewhat reminiscent of his major influence, Lester Young. Parker’s unique contribution, however, is seen in his characteristic chromatic passing tones.[11]
Parker’s last session on tenor provides a glimpse at Parker’s tenor playing in a different atmosphere. On the January 1953 recording date, another tenor saxophonist, Sonny Rollins, joins Parker and Davis. On “Serpent’s Tooth,” Davis takes two choruses, followed by two choruses each by Rollins and then Parker. Hearing the two tenor men solo right next to each other provides an interesting comparison. At this time, Parker’s influence on Rollins could still be heard in the twenty-two year old’s playing. While Rollins plays many Parker-like phrases, his rhythmic variance gives him away. Also, Rollins has a very unique tone in the high range of the horn. However, he and Parker’s tone in the middle range of the horn is quite similar on this recording session.
On this recording, Parker’s tenor tone has more of an edge to it than his previous sessions on the instrument. Raising the pitch of his playing by seven half steps on this session again shows an interesting comparison to his alto playing. While his tenor playing is rougher sounding and more adventurous than the session from 1947, it still reflects the change heard in his alto tone, and the 1953 recordings sounds similar to his alto playing of the time when the pitch is raised.
During this recording session, Parker does not hold back. Unlike the previous session under Davis, Parker shows brilliant technique. Perhaps he chose to let loose more on this session due to the presence of Sonny Rollins. It is also possible that he chose to play in a more aggressive manner because of Davis’s milder manner of playing. In 1947, Davis was still playing a more strict form of bebop, but by 1953 had started taking a cooler approach.
Without a doubt, Charlie Parker’s output on tenor saxophone pales in comparison to his output on alto saxophone. However, the spacing of his tenor recordings creates an interesting narrative of his growth. The Redcross recordings in 1943 show Parker towards the end of his development. The influence of players like Lester Young, Chu Berry, and even Coleman Hawkins can be heard clearly. The Miles Davis All-Stars session took place around the time of some of his best work as a leader for Dial Records. Parker had really matured as a player, and comparing these recordings to his work on alto at the time is an interesting exercise. During this session, Parker almost sounds like a tenor player influenced by Charlie Parker rather than Charlie Parker on tenor. The 1953 recording for Prestige was in the middle of Parker’s Verve years. Parker’s sound was evolving in his final years, and the same is heard in his tenor playing. To me, this is when his tenor saxophone playing sounded the most like Charlie Parker.
This study of Parker has been a good starting place, but it far from extensive. Further comparison of his solos on both alto and tenor saxophone that uses more transcription than I could provide would be interesting. Indeed, Parker’s output on tenor saxophone shows an interesting reflection and departure from his normal playing.
[1] Stanley Crouch, Kansas City Lightning: The Rise and Times of Charlie Parker. (New York: Harper Collins, 2013), 232.
[2] Carl Woideck, Charlie Parker: His Life and Music. (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998), 11-12.
[3] Gunther Schuller, The Swing Era: The Development of Jazz 1930-1945. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), 290.
[4] Woideck (1998), 25.
[5] Koch, Lawrence, Yardbird Suite: A Compendium of the Music and Life of Charlie Parker. (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1999). 37.
[6] Chuck Haddix, Bird: The Life and Music Charlie Parker, (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2013), 61.
[7] Woideck (1998) 96.
[8] Woideck (1998), 97.
[9] Koch (1999), 38.
[10] Woideck (1998) 142.
[11] Woideck (1998), 143-144.
