Louis Prima

Posted to www.marxmail.org on December 6, 2005

Although the name Louis Prima will draw a blank nowadays, he was one of America’s most popular musicians from the 1930s through the early 1960s. Last night I watched a fine documentary on his life titled “The Wildest” that demonstrates the way that popular music can meld together different styles of different nationalities. Like Bob Wills who blended country music and swing, Prima fused various jazz styles throughout his career with the Italian songs that he heard as a child growing up in New Orleans.

The Primas left Sicily at the turn of the century and ended up in Buenos Aires, a primary port of call for economic refugees from Europe, including Jews. Shortly after arriving, the Primas decided that their fortunes would be better served in the USA and booked passage to New Orleans, another major port of call.

Like Elvis Presley, who sopped up Black gospel and blues influences in Memphis, the young Louis Prima would stick his head through the doors of Black churches on Sundays, to be knocked out by what he heard. When his mother wasn’t singing Italian songs around the dinner table, she was performing at local minstrel shows. Among the eye-opening segments of the film is a huge crowd, including many whites, paying homage to the King of the Zulus, an honorary figurehead of the Mardi Gras. New Orleans, like Memphis, was a city made for cultural cross-fertilization.

Although the documentary does not make note of this, Prima’s debt to Louis Armstrong is enormous both in his trumpet playing and his singing. Like Jack Teagarden, and other white jazz musicians rooted in the New Orleans style, Prima learned his phrasing from Armstrong, the recognized master.

In the 1930s, Prima adapted to changing jazz idioms. He had a talent for keeping up with major trends in the music business and could even be seen leading people doing the Twist in 1974 (four years before his death of a brain tumor in 1978). Prima composed “Sing, Sing, Sing”, a swing anthem made popular by Benny Goodman. When big bands were no longer economically feasible, Prima changed gears and launched a small group specializing in what is known as the “jump” style. Other practitioners included Louis Jordan and his Tympani Five and Lionel Hampton. Jump music was one of the major influences on early rock-and-roll, as evidenced by Bill Haley and his Comets. This is a sound that relies heavily on aggressive saxophone solos, a heavy drum beat and electric guitar. Prima’s longtime saxophone player was Sam Butera, who can be heard in a sizzling hot performance of “Night Train” in the documentary.

Prima’s band included Keely Smith, a great vocalist of Irish and Cherokee origin who is still performing today. The two complemented each other on stage to great comic effect. As he jitterbugged around the stage with a broad grin on his face, she stood by motionlessly with a deadpan expression. To the end of his career, Prima was an old-time entertainer who wasn’t happy unless his audience was happy. This put him in the tradition of Louis Armstrong, Cab Calloway and Dizzy Gillespie. As jazz has evolved into America’s classical music, such antic-driven performers have fallen by the wayside.

As I sat watching this fine documentary, I could not help feeling remorse about what has happened to New Orleans. The sort of racial gumbo that made a Louis Prima possible is probably gone forever.

“The ghosts race towards the light, you can almost hear the heavy breathing spirits, all determined to get somewhere. New Orleans, unlike a lot of those places you go back to and that don't have the magic anymore, still has got it. Night can swallow you up, yet none of it touches you. Around any corner, there's a promise of something daring and ideal and things are just getting going. There's something obscenely joyful behind every door, either that or somebody crying with their head in their hands. A lazy rhythm looms in the dreamy air and the atmosphere pulsates with bygone duels, past-life romance, comrades requesting comrades to aid them in some way. You can't see it, but you know it's here. Somebody is always sinking. Everyone seems to be from some very old Southern families. Either that or a foreigner. I like the way it is.”

Bob Dylan, “Chronicles, part one”

Louis Prima website: http://www.louisprima.com/