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Scenes from a life in Jazz

Scenes from a life in Jazz
Duncan Lamont By

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We had parties every night but we never called them parties. It just so happened that around ten at night, people came to our house and stayed till dawn.

About the author

Duncan Lamont is one of the UK's musical treasures. I've known who he is for years, but finally through a friend, got to meet and play with him only this year (2018) at The Pizza Express in Soho, London. Sammy Cahn, the legendary lyricist, said about Duncan, "It makes me very happy that people are still writing songs like "I Told You So." (The song won Duncan best Jazz Song of the Year in the U.S.). Tomorrow's Standards, by singer Nancy Marano, a CD of Duncan's songs recorded in New York in 1992 and featuring guitarist Jack Wilkins, won Best Jazz Album of the Year, in Britain. He is known to musicians there, of course, as a terrific tenor player though he started out his career playing trumpet, but rivaling that, he is also a great storyteller. It comes through in his songs, and Duncan's songwriting rivals that of the late great Bob Dorough. A heady claim you might think. And yet... Two books of Duncan's songs have been performed and recorded by Cleo Laine, Blossom Dearie, Mark Murphy, Kiri Te Kanawa ( yes, really!), Richard Rodney Bennett, and Natalie Cole among many others. He has earned the respect of the likes of Benny Carter, Gil Evans, Johnny Mandel, Marty Paich, Michel Legrand, and Clare Fischer. One of his most treasured possessions, he told me after the gig, is a letter from Fred Astaire saying how much he liked Duncan's song, "Fred Astaire." When Gil Evans, in a magazine interview, was asked who his favorite contemporary composer and arranger was, he said Duncan Lamont.

Duncan was born in Greenock, Scotland in 1931 to a family of what some would call poor Irish gypsies. He has started writing his memoir, and, with Duncan's permission, this is an excerpt from his unpublished manuscript.


Peter Rubie
My family were bohemians without realizing what the word meant. In other words, they bucked the system and never lost. We were dirt poor. People on the wrong side of the tracks used to say about us, "They live on the wrong side of the tracks." We lived in a single apartment. I still don't know how we managed in such cramped surroundings. We slept in two enormous curtained beds called "holes in the wall." I slept in one with my father, and my mother and sisters slept in the other. It was a blissfully happy family.

We had parties every night but we never called them parties. It just so happened that around ten at night, people came to our house and stayed till dawn. My father was one of the nicest people on Earth. His temperament was that of a jazz musician, he was so cool, and he had played accordion from an early age. (I once saw a music program that said: "Accordion solos by five year old Duncan Lamont.") Everyone called him Lamont, including my sisters and my mother. I think it stemmed from the fact that at one time, people used to ask who was playing at the dance that evening and people would reply Lamont, so it stuck. It's sad in that age he was doomed for the shipyards. My father worked in the torpedo factory. After his evening meal, he used to sleep in a chair for about three hours and then stayed up half the night playing music.

My mother was special. She reminded me of a female version of Dickens' Mr Micawber—something was always turning up. She had an infallible way of avoiding pressure: If a brown envelope came through the door, she threw it in the fire. I was twenty when I turned professional and never saw any National Service, probably because my mother threw the papers in the fire. She used to say, "My hands are itching, we're coming into money," which never appeared.

I had two sisters, Tricia, who was an accordionist, and Mary who was the Charlie Parker of Scottish dancers. She was incredible. She had won two hundred gold medals by the time she was thirteen and at that age, she had a dance class of eighty pupils. She taught everything from tap to ballet to Scottish dancing, she covered the whole range. I received some cuttings from the local newspaper of that time and I marveled at this child who could do so many things. Mary suffered from chronic bronchitis and used to be gasping for every breath. Then she went on stage and danced like an angel. But the moment she left the stage, she was fighting for every breath again. I didn't realize at the time, but it left me with a philosophy that if you can breathe without any problems then nothing really matters.

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