Anita Belle Colton O'Day: October 18, 1919 - November 23, 2006
Remembering a Jazz Legend
By: Charles Giuliano - Nov 29, 2006
In the 1959 film based on the previous year's Newport Jazz Festival "Jazz on a Summer's Day" Anita O'Day was gloriously glamorous and superbly hip as she scatted through standards such as "Tea For Two" fracturing, stretching, reconfiguring, scatting and riffing. In her deep understanding of precise timing and the structure of a song, the ability to tear it apart and reassemble it, with subtle shifts of tempo and pitch she was arguably more of an architect and instrumentalist than a singer who stays on the beat and delivers a song. Additionally she was a wonderful story teller as that stunning segment of a classic jazz film revealed years before I met her in the 1980s when she was past her prime but still a diva of jazz singing.
For that Newport appearance she was ultra sexy and feminine with an enormous saucer brimmed hat decked with plumage. She wore long opera gloves, like her idol Billie Holiday, less a fashion statement than to conceal the tracks from shooting up moments before taking the stage zonked as she was for more than a decade. Smack almost took her life in 1966 when she OD's recovered and went cold turkey. But booze took over where the dope left off. Like many jazz artists she bounced from one to the other and rehab to rehab. So it was a surprise last week to learn that she had made it to her 80s. After a tough life as a marathon dancer in the depression, band girl for Gene Krupa, Stan Kenton, Woody Herman and all that entailed. A couple of marriages, lots of guys, rape, and no kids. God bless the child.
During one of those tween times of the artist's life I was gigging as pr man/ MC/ bartender/ mentor to a SOB club owner, Sandy Berman, who ran a juke joint called Sandy's Jazz Revival in Beverly, Mass. He was a pain to work for but we shared a passion for the music. He would come alive and swing within the limits of such a square persona when the night was hot and the music was cookin. I turned him on to blues but he really loved jazz. He came on the jazz scene just after Lennie Sogaloff closed his legendary shack "Lennie's on the Turnpike" which burned down. For a time Lennie struggled on with Buddy Rich at the Holiday Inn. A local kid Jay Leno used to open for Buddy. But eventually Lennie packed it and became a haberdasher in Marblehead which is a sad come down for a hipster. That left an opening for Sandy but he never had Lennie's class or style.
It was a brutal gig to schlep up from Cambridge, set up the bar around 6, open at 8 and work till 1 AM, clean up and then around two or three face an hour's drive home to Cambridge. There were slow nights that were like watching paint dry. But Saturday night could be a blast when Buddy Guy and Junior Wells breezed in from Chitown. Sandy started late but took to the blues. Strangely he had a heart of gold when we got Bukka White up from the Delta. But he took sick at the motel and never did the gig although Sandy got him to a hospital and took care of him for a couple of months before he was well enough to head back home. Sandy threw a benefit for Bukka and really loved the guy.
Given those long hours a night off was precious. I had a date planned when Sandy asked me to pick up Anita O'Day at the airport. It was a bit tough to explain to Stephanie that were was a slight change of plans but I sketched out that we would pick her up, drop her off at the motel, and then do something on our own. Right. Who knew? You don't just pick up, drop and dump, a diva.
At Logan we waited at the gate while I tried to pick her out of the crowd. I was wrong about a dozen times until she spotted us. "Hi, I'm Anita," she said slipping between us and taking us each by an arm. On the way up Route One through a strip of bars and restaurants she said, "I need a drink." That lasted a couple of hours as she unwound and spewed out the story of her life whether or not we cared to listen. Nervously I looked at Stephanie to see if she was cool with all this or should we just dump the broad and do our own thing. Mostly Anita complained about her disheveled appearance after the flight. She talked about getting her hair done the next day and when could I come by to pick her up. I let that one slide.
Eventually we got her to the motel. But that wasn't the end of it. She wanted to fall by the gig and check it out. There were about ten people there for some lesbian band. Can't remember the name. She wasn't impressed with the act, the club, or Sandy. Like the club, however, she was being Revived and had to make do. Sandy who had a terrible accent and no style garbled her name, something like "Anneeedddeeer." She corrected him several times "AnIII-TAH." He never got it right. After the depressing visit to the club she wondered "Is there some place here where we can get a bite to eat?" At that point, what the heck, the date was shot to hell and actually Stephanie was really digging it. After a late dinner, of course, it was time for a nitecap before dropping her back at the motel. Oh well. The stories were great.
Showing up at the club the next night she was rehearsing with the trio that Sandy provided. It wasn't going well. She was trying to get it right with her theme song "Wave" by Antonio Carlos Jobim with its soft, shifting, sultry, samba beat. "You're rushing me," she stated over and over. Once again she counted off the beat. "You're following me, no, you put down the beat and wherever I go I'll find you." She explained that the singer is like the trapeze artist who comes out of the flips and the band is like the catcher. It has to be there right on time or it's into the net. I heard that song about a dozen times and then for the opener of three sets that night. It never sounded right and she was getting more and more frustrated. The musicians were ok but just Berklee kids and they didn't have her chops. Not for jazz at its best. And Anita was the best.
Which is to say no voice. There wasn't much there particularly after the life. Like Billie Holiday, her mentor, she worked with the shards and broke your heart with the pain and reality she conveyed. There's basically two kinds of jazz singers. Thems with chops like Ella and Sarah and thems with soul like Billie and Anita. Give me feeling and interpretation over chops any day. Except for Annie Ross, I grooved on her scat with Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. They were great on vocalese making the voices cover for the solos in the Basie band. Hendricks could channel the Prez and Annie could be Joe Newman.
Back in the day Anita could cut it with a big band and lay down some heavy swing. Like the Krupa hit "Let Me Off Up Town" when she cuts with Roy Eldridge swapping riffs. Telling him to "blow man, blow." Which was far out for a white chick to tell a black dude back then. Like 1942. Later she had a hit with Kenton "The Tears Flowed Like Wine." They were the biggest singles at the time for both bands. But she didn't last as a band girl. She was never a blaster and always more of an intimate cabaret singer. Like all those 20 or so sides she cut with Verve.
After that first night at Sandy's, probably a Wednesday or Thursday, she blew her top and demanded that he spring to fly in her drummer/lover/ connection of 32 years, John Poole. Man what a difference as he kept time and the piano and bass just had to fall in behind his beat so Anita had her catcher for the weekend. He wasn't a great drummer as drummers go but he was her drummer and was hip to all her changes and knew just where to be whenever. Funny how singers so often stick to side men who by any measure are average. But it's all about knowing their tunes and just being there for them.
Arriving on Saturday night to a packed house Anita was edgy. "Light me up man," she said. On stage she had a buzz going as she just took off and beamed at Poole. The theme song was perfect. It was like hearing it for the first time and I have never forgotten it. Through all that rehearsal you get to know the difference between right and wrong. What great jazz is all about. Anita taught me a lesson and now I am sharing that with you. What a dame. Peace, and I hope somewhere, wherever, you got a cool slide on.