Waiting At the End of the Road
This recording, made by the Paul Whiteman Orchestra on September 13, 1929, has almost always been viewed as Bix’s last with Paul.
It is included in the Masters of Jazz and Bixology sets, in Brian Rust’s Jazz Records discography, and in Sudhalter and Evans. Marc Richard in the Masters of Jazz set states:
As far as Andy Secrest is concerned, there can be no possible confusion with Bix in this Volume 8. The Bix genius is perfectly recognizable on China Boy and Oh! Miss Hannah, while the final two sideswith Whiteman have drawn categorical testimony from musicians playing on the date: it was Bix who soloed on Waiting at the End of the Road, whereas for When You’re Counting the Stars Alone he played on the first take only. Apparently, results were so disastrous , with Bix simply incapable of carrying on, that Secrest took care of the solos on the two subsequent takes.
Evans and Evans provide a detailed description of the session:
First selection of the day is a remake of Waiting at the End of the Road; this is Bix’s last issued solo with the Whiteman orchestra, eight bars in the final chorus. He was able to complete only one take of the following selection When You’re Counting the Stars Alone. Andy Secrest remembered he session quite well. He and the others thought that after a brief rest, Bix would be able to continue. Some of the folding chairs in the studio were arranged so that Bix could lie down. Obviously, Bix was not able to continue. A pencil notation on Secrest’s third part arrangement told him to go to fourth part and play the solo.
Randy Sandke writes in his article “Bix Beiderbecke: Observing a Genius at Work”:
It has been debated whether Bix or Andy Secrest actually played the eight-bar solo but I believe it to be Bix. The simple yet solid melodic construction is definitely Bix’s but it is possible that Secrest is repeating phrases that Bix had played on an earlier take. Still I think there are too many nuances for it to be Secrest.
So far, all accounts and opinions ascribe the solo in Waiting at the End of the Road to Bix. In contrast, this recording is not included as one of Bix’s in the Sunbeam set. The following statement is added after the September 6, 1929 session in which At Twilight was recorded (reference: personal interview with Andy Secrest by Tom Pletcher):
This is the last recording Bix Beiderbecke plays with the Whiteman orchestra. “Waiting at the End of the Road” was remade September 13, 1929. Bix collapsed after take 7 and was unable to continue. Andy Secrest takes the solo on the issued take 8.
I asked Tom Pletcher about this recording and he gave me permission to quote his answer (letter dated January 20, 1999).
Even if I hadn’t spoken with Secrest personally, my EAR told me it was CLASSIC SECREST doing a commendable job of emulating Bix…. but definitely not Bix on the issued take.If only any of the previous takes were to surface, the difference would be obvious.
There are two questions here:
- What musicians remember and what a trained ear can establish;
- What does the record tell us?
1.
Secrest gave conflicting stories to Phil Evans and to Tom Pletcher.
Marc Richard states that there are categorical accounts from musicians (what is the source of the accounts and who are the musicians? If anyone knows, please get in touch; I’m trying to get in touch with Marc Richard) to the effect that Bix played the solo in Waiting at the End of the Road.
The question is whether Bix collapsed after the seventh take of Waiting at the End of the Road or after the first take of When You’re Counting the Stars Alone.
In the former case, Secrest plays in Waiting at the End of the Road and in When You’re Counting the Stars Alone. In the latter case, Bix takes the solo in Waiting at the End of the Road and Secrest takes the one in When You’re Counting the Stars Alone.
2.
The second question relates to aural evidence.
Tom Pletcher, the specialist of Bix’s style and sound, states categorically that the solo in Waiting at the End of the Road is by Secrest. Dick Sudhalter, the musician, writer, and Bix’s specialist tells me (e-mail message of 2/9/99) that the solo is by Andy Secrest and points out that:
This eight-bar solo bears strong resemblance to the bridge played by Secrest on Trumbauer’s “My Sweeter Than Sweet” OKeh, right down to near duplication of a figure in bars 3-4 of each.
I hesitate to give my opinion, especially because I have no standing as a musician, because I disagree with Tom Pletcher and Dick Sudhalter, and because, subconsciously, I may be afflicted by “wishful thinking”. But I’ll give you my opinion for whatever it is worth: my Bixophile friend and I sat on several different occasions and listened several times in succession to Waiting at the End of the Road and When You’re Counting the Stars Alone. We feel that there are distinct differences between the two solos, and this is very important because the two solos were recorded on the same day and in succession. The musical conception, the high level of invention, and the emotion injected in the solo of Waiting at the End of the Road are typical of Bix but are absent in When You’re Counting the Stars Alone.
Another key difference between the solos resides in the tone. Only the solo in Waiting at the End of the Road possesses Bix’s mellow tone. The tone in When You’re Counting the Stars Alone is harsher. Therefore, we believe Bix plays the solo in Waiting at the End of the Road.
Addendum 7/2/99
While surfing the internet, I recently came across a very lively and informative discussion of Waiting at the End of the Road in the Dixieland Jazz Mailing List Archive. The following are the highlights of the discussion.
The discussion thread begins with Stan Brager (Stan’s Jazz Scrapbook, KLON – 88.1 FM, “It don’t mean a thing …) pointing out the discrepancy between the account in Sudhalter and Evans’ “Bix: Man and Legend” and that in the liners for the Sunbeam Set of Bix recordings. The former assigns the solo to Bix; the latter assigns it to Andy Secrest. Stan then asks:
Can anyone shed some light on this matter?
Listening to Waiting… and also to any recording with a Secrest solo, who, in your opinion, took the cornet solo?
The first to answer was Christopher Tyle:
(From aural analysis) It sounds too strong to be Bix.
There’s also something in the tone that is not what I’m used to hearing from Bix.
Also on the basis of Secrest’s statement to Tom Pletcher that Secrest was the cornet player in Waiting at the End of the Road, Chris favored Secrest as the soloist. But he also presents some caveats:
I’m sure this is something that will be debated for years.
Aural identification of various musicians is, indeed, a tricky matter.
Chris also injects some humor into the discussion:
Can you imagine how Bix felt after making seven takes of the number??? If I was in his shoes I would have GLADLY given the solo to someone else!!
Michael Rader does not give an opinion, but makes a thoughtful comment:
To the eternal frustration of discographers, some musicians are unable to identify their own playing on old records.
Wrong identification doesn’t necessarily imply that the musician is lying – he might believe what he is saying.
David Jellema, Archivist at the Center for Popular Music, Middle Tennessee State University, provides an in-depth analysis:
An important ingredient missing in Secrest is Bix’s use of vibrato.
Bix had a living vibrato that was a little bit overdone in his Wolverine days (as was popular among some white jazz musicians then), and by the time he was in Goldkette’s and Trumbauer’s groups, it was pure and melodic, the cycles of the vibrato-less intense or less frequent. In those final months of his recording, you can hear the vibrato again a little more pronounced, partly because of the advances in electric recording by 1929, and, perhaps, for the same reason Bix used the derby–to make up for the lack of crystal ringing heard when he was at his peak.
With headsets and an adjustable pitch (or even half-speed) recorder the vibrato characteristic in Oh! Miss Hannah and Reaching for Someone are also apparent in Waiting. I think the lack of brilliance in this recording is not the same as the characteristic mushy sound of Secrest. Bix was fading and sick but still had a ring that Secrest didn’t have.
Another factor to consider is the three-beat scoop, the dip, and the bend up to the next note in the last beat of the fourth bar of his solo in Waiting. He does the same thing (the note lasts a beat and a half here) in the 10th measure of his solo on Oh! Miss Hannah. Listen for this dip in other solos he took in those last few months (the third to the last note in Raising the Roof, for example). While everyone does “dips,” how Bix uses that device is to be considered and, in these recordings, compared. And compared with Secrest’s use of the device as well (if any).
Considering that even Bix was not a fountain ofperpetual creativity and had a few (I hate saying this) cliche phrases,he may have had to rely more on those in the sickness ridden moment of his last few months with Whiteman.
David also makes some insightful comments about the reliability of recollections:
Oral histories have inherent traps, namely human memory, which shifts, fades, reverses, and scrambles.” He continues later: “People who want to be associated with someone great may say one thing to be agreeable with the status quo on a particular point or may say the opposite just to be noted.
Conclusion
When the written record is incomplete, we must depend on the recollections of individuals who were present at the time of the recording session and/or on aural evidence. Both of these approaches are fraught with uncertainty. We have seen already that individual recollections may be unreliable – for various reasons: faulty memories, conscious or unconscious desire for self-aggrandizement. The interpretation of recordings using aural analysis is an extremely subjective procedure, even for technically competent musicians. To paraphrase a trite expression:
Bix is in the ear of the beholder.