Arnie and His Rhythm: Keep Your Sunny Side Up

Liner Notes by Michael Steinman / Jazz Lives

Before my time, jazz was affectionately called “good-time music.” That term, if used at all, now seems condescending and false, but the music you are about to hear lives up to that description and wears it proudly. To quote Groucho, The Secret Word is JOY.

I am writing these words in a time of inflation, so it should also be consolation that this band gives good value. You will hear a singer, banjo, trumpet, and Eb alto horn, bass saxophone, string bass, and percussion (the elusive “lowboy” cymbal) – a full orchestra (with neat little arranging touches) even though they only order three meals at the set break.

The individual songs are often a gentle bow to Thomas “Fats” Waller, whose genial spirit not only inspired the repertoire but also encouraged Arnt to title the group as he does, a spiritual homage to Fats’ energetic little sextet that recorded perhaps 500 memorable Victor sides. I hear some delighted exhortations that summon up the happy shades of Fats, Louis, and Django.

The repertoire is optimistic and romantic but there’s also melancholy: hear Arnt’s moving, even fierce BROTHER, CAN YOU SPARE A DIME? in honor of Bing and economic miseries, and his earnestly wounded CARELESS LOVE. I love his singing, so easy and sincere, and when I once told him how much I admired his honest approach, he grinned and said, “That’s great because it’s the only approach I have!” Although the banjo, in the wrong hands, can create aural harm, Arnt’s playing is a lovely mixture of delicacy and melodic ease. (He comes from a musical family, too.) His candid earnestness never gets sappy, and his rhythmic heart is always arriving on time.

His colleagues have spent more time on New York and New Jersey bandstands, but this is a splendidly balanced trio – a working band rather than three “stars” waiting for their turn to solo.

Vince Giordano is a jazz monument, although no one’s yet made room for him on Mount Rushmore. Although he can tell you which Ben Bernie records feature Jack Pettis solos, he is much more than a walking Library of Alexandria of jazz and dance music. Most people know him as the creator-leader-life force of the ten-piece orchestra, the Nighthawks (if you’ve never heard them in person, you’ve heard them in the movies and on television) where he sings, plays string bass – the aluminum version – bass saxophone, and tuba in fiery, exact ways. But he is that rare creature, a leader who is a wondrous sideman, an addition to any group. Here, he adds to the rhythm with an authentic foot-operated cymbal, the sort of percussive talisman beloved by Jazz Age drummers.

Danny Tobias is the Clark Kent of Trenton, New Jersey, until he brings out his brass – stronger than any Kryptonite. His playing is lit from within by the great lyrical masters of swing – think of Buck, Bobby, Ruby – but he doesn’t imitate them, and he doesn’t repeat himself. His solos honor the melody but shine it up so the listener feels, “Wow, I never really heard that song before!” His humor comes through in his playing, although it is a wry way of looking at the world rather than a series of jokes. And he has a secret weapon – the Eb alto horn (the “peck horn” for those who know it from marching bands), its tone mournful and pensive, but in Danny’s hands, always hot and wise.

This elegantly jubilant trio does it all: respect for the songs – hear their AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ for a superb example – leavened by a bubbly improvisatory inventiveness. They dazzle; they seduce; they rock; they enchant. No corn syrup or “natural flavors” synthesized in the lab; they are the real thing, full of heart, experience, and musical intelligence.
Listening to this session, you need not lean forward with furrowed brow and notepad, taking notes for the Jazz Studies final. You need only to open your ears and heart to joy. As Arnt sings, “Yes, you, baby!”

-Michael Steinman / JAZZ LIVES