Jazz Dogs: Ten Essential Dog-Eared Tunes

Everybody's best friend. Okay, so not everyone loves dogs. But find yourself buried in an avalanche and it will be a dog that sniffs you out. The last person found alive after the World Trade Center collapsed on 9/11 was sniffed out by a rescue dog. Guide dogs helped lead their blind owners to safety from the Twin Towers following the terrorist attack. How many blind or partially sighted people around the world could manage without their trusty guide dog?

Dogs are also trained to assist people with all manner of disabilities, from hearing loss to seizures. Therapy dogs provide comfort to the stressed, distressed and shocked in all manner of places. Dogs serve in the police, helping to keep our streets safe. They sniff out drugs at airports. Their acute sense of smell also enables them to to detect explosives, human remains and even cancer. Dogs serve in the armed forces, detecting landmines, acting as trackers or simply keeping watch. Dogs pull sleds, herd animals, guard livestock from predators and hunt truffles. Oh yes, and if rewarded properly, they will also bring you your slippers.

In tribute to Sammy, AAJ's Head of Security and loyal companion to AAJ head honcho Michael Ricci for 14 years, we offer ten dog-related jazz titles across nearly a century of jazz.

Louisiana Five: "Yelping Hound Blues"

One of the earliest jazz bands to record, Dixieland jazzers the Louisiana Five was formed in New York City by Anton Lada. The Czech-born drummer was also the group's manager during its short existence from 1917-1920.

The yelping on this 1919 single is courtesy of clarinetist Alcide Nunez, whose parents were of Isleños and French Creole heritage. Nunez might be better remembered in jazz history had he not left Stein's Dixie Jazz Band, shortly before it changed its name to the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. Low in the recording mix on "Yelping Hound Blues" is pianist Joe Cawley, while trombonist Charlie Parnelli and banjo playerKarl Berger round out the quintet

Joe Venuti's Blue Four: "The Wild Dog"

Violinist Joe Venuti's Blue Four featured Eddie Lang on guitar. The childhood friends first recorded together in 1926. Two years later  they recorded "The Wild Dog." If this lively romp seems to foreshadow the gypsy jazz of Stephane Grappelli and Django Reinhardt it is perhaps no coincidence—Grappelli came across Venuti in Paris in 1928 and was sufficiently struck by his playing to turn to jazz. Forty-two years later Venuti and Grappelli collaborated on Venupelli Blues (BYG Records, 1970). Back to 1926, and Venuti's quartet is rounded out by Don Murray on baritone saxophone and Rube Bloom on piano. Wild indeed!

Count Basie Orchestra: "Doggin' Around"

The Edgar Battle/Herschel Evans-penned "Doggin' Around" was the B-side to Count Basie's 1938 Decca single "Blue and Sentimental." Basie, almost Fats Waller-esque here, is in fine form. As ever with Basie the orchestra is the thing and boy does it swing! So much power and flair packed into just three minutes.

 

Art Pepper: "Bijou The Poodle"

One of the great alto saxophone players in jazz, Art Pepper actually plays tenor saxophone on "Bijou The Poodle," which appeared on Getting' Together (Contemporary Records, 1960). A straight-ahead, minor-key swinging affair, Pepper is backed by a rhtyhm section of Wynton Kelly on piano, Paul Chambers on bass and Jimmy Cobb on drums—heard just six months earlier on Miles Davis' Kind of Blue (Columbia Records, 1959). The quintet is completed by trumpeter Conte Candoli—who played in the big bands of Woody Herman, Stan Kenton, Benny Goodman and Dizzy Gillespie.

Who was the dog of the title? As recounted in Straight Life: The Story of Art Pepper by Art and Laurie Pepper (Da Capo Press, 1996), Pepper bought a champagne poodle for his wife at the cost of $300. He admitted that it was really for himself. Pepper, who spent years in jail and in rehab, allegedly sold the poodle to satisfy his heroin addiction.

Kai Winding: "Dirty Dog"

Anyone who has ever owned a dog knows too well that guilty pleasure look a dog will give you when it comes home completely covered in mud... or worse. It just knows. Trombonist Kai Winding named is 1966 album Dirty Dog (Verve Records), though the tune was written by guitarist Al Gafa. The album and the song sound very much of the time but there is some rocking guitar work by Kenny Burrell-listed as 'Buzzy Bavairan,"  a bluesy piano solo from Herbie Hancock and trombone features for Carl Fontana, Urbie Green. On bass, Bob Cranshaw, on drums, Grady Tate.

Carla Bley: "A Dog's Life"

  It is no surprise that some of Carla Bley's most affecting music was made in a duo context with her musical/life partner Steve Swallow. Swallow's blues tune—the title was a giveaway—features the electric bassist in bluesy, lyrical mode. Bley solos around the 3.40 mark—a typically spare, heartfelt exposition. From the live album Are We There Yet? (Watt/ECM, 1999).  

 

Vince Guaraldi: "Joe Cool"

The world's best-loved animated dog? While no such official title exists, Snoopy must surely be in the mix. Charles M. Schulz's comic strip ran daily from 1950—2000 in thousands of newspapers all over the world. It spawned the hugely popular animated TV show Peanuts and several films.

Snoopy, a beagle, was not your typical dog. Frequently expressing human thoughts, walking on his hind legs and bashing away at a typewriter, the loveable dog brought a dose of fantasy to the show. Among his alter-egos were the World War I flying ace, the attorney, the secret agent and 'Joe Cool,' complete with dark shades.

Synonymous with Peanuts is the television show's music, composed and performed by pianist Vince Guaraldi. Half his releases, or so it seems, were Peanuts related. Gauraldi wrote several themes for Snoopy, including "He's Your Dog, Charlie Brown" and "Red Barron." The lyrics to "Joe Cool" were penned by Desirée Goyette in 1971. Gauraldi, sounding a little like Randy Newman, sings and plays electric keyboards and handles guitar on this version. On drums Glen Cronkite, on trumpet Tom Harrell, on trombone Pat O'Hara, and on electric bass Seward McCain. First aired in the 1972 TV special You're Not Elected, Charlie Brown.

Dr. John: "How Come My Dog Don't Bark (When you Come Around)"

High-priest of New Orleans blues, r&b, jazz and voodoo-funk, Vince Guaraldi recorded this tale of infidelity and a guard dog unworthy of the name on 1992's Goin' Back To New Orleans (Warner Bros. 1992). The song was written by the fairly obscure Prince Patridge—a  rhythm 'n' blues singer who first recorded in the '50s. Listening to Dr. John's lived-in, whiskey 'n' smoke voice it is not hard to imagine how Tom Waits might have been influenced by the New Orleans singer. Incidentally, Waits did a voiceover for a dog food commercial in 1981—you never know when this information will come in handy.

 

Peter Brötzmann & Hamid Drake: "The Dried Rat-Dog"

Named for a little dog—breed unspecified—out for an evening walk with its owner, "The Dried Rat Dog" finds saxophonist Peter Brötzmann and drummer Hamid Drake in fesity free-jazz communion for just under 14 minutes. Brötzmann's braying and squalling on tenor, combined with Drake's barrage would probably have had the little canine fleeing for its life—little legs pumping, ears pinned back, eyes as big as saucers. From the album The Dried Rat-Dog (Okka Disc, 1995).

 

Bill Frisell: "Good Dog, Happy Man"

We just had to include this Bill Frisell composition for the title alone. Though not strictly jazz—a neat summation of Frisell's mazy career as a whole—Good Dog, Happy Man (Nonesuch, 1999) saw the guitarist venture into genre-elusive Americana territory where country, bluegrass, jazz and blues converge. Arguably one of Frisell's most perfect albums, it brings together drummer Jim Keltner, bassist Viktor Krauss, pianist/organist Wayne Horvitz and—on one track—Ry Cooder.

Another musician whose fingerprints are all over the album—on guitar, mandolin, pedal steel guitar, National steel guitar, dobro and lap slide guitar is—Greg Leisz. Frisell and Leisz combine on the pretty, bucolic "Good Dog, Happy Man." Country blues, old style.

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