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Wes Montgomery Remembered Wes Montgomery’s warm smile, self-effacing demeanor, and somewhat awkward-looking right-hand thumb technique might have said "don’t take me too seriously," but the music he produced told another story. Aggressive but rhythmically subtle, bluesy, musically sophisticated, and technically astounding- especially in terms of its deft, lush octaves and liquid chordal passages-his playing embodied the bebop-oriented jazz of the late ’50s and ’60s more completely than any other guitarist of the day. Almost as soon as he emerged from the relative obscurity of his native Indianapolis, he was lauded as the most important player since Charlie Christian. Twenty five years after Montgomery’s sudden death in 1968, his significance remains unchallenged. In the late ’30s and early ’40s, Christian helped usher in a new era and point the way to horn-based improvisation on the guitar, but Wes took things to their logical conclusion, creating a lasting jazz guitar lexicon. Consequently, legions of players have fallen under the influence of his timeless, blues-based approach-George Benson, Pat Metheny, Larry Coryell, Pat Martino, Steve Khan, Kevin Eubanks, Joe Pass, Emily Remler, Ted Dunbar, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Eric Johnson to name a few. An especially telling testament to Wes’ enduring importance and impact is Fantasy Records’ recently issued boxed set The Complete Riverside Recordings. While no Montgomery recording is without merit, the Riverside sessions reflect a period during which he had substantial artistic control regarding material, the length of improvisations, and the sidemen involved. This monumental project, with its extensive annotation and 12 CDs (with many unissued takes), is more than just a salute to a great guitarist; it pays tribute to one of America’s finest jazz musicians, period. John Leslie "Wes" Montgomery was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, on March 6, 1923. "His parents weren’t musicians," says his widow, Serene, "but all of the children were." June, the eldest brother, was an aspiring drummer but died at 18. Monk was born in 1921 and went on to play upright and become the first jazz musician to concentrate on electric bass. Buddy was born in 1930 and is noted for his work on piano and vibes. Even sister Ervena played piano in church. According to Serene, "His family was poor just about like any other; they had to work every day." When the children were young, Wes’ parents separated. Buddy stayed in Indianapolis with his mother and sister, and the three older boys moved to Columbus, Ohio, with their father. In the Sept. ’77 issue of Guitar Player Monk said, "I got to the sixth grade, but I just couldn’t cope with the school thing. It was the tough ’30s, the Depression, and I wanted to get out in the street and start making a living. When I started working-hauling ice and coal, unloading boxcars of fruit and vegetables, earning a few quarters-I was happy." Monk saved $13 to buy a tenor guitar (probably tuned E, B, G, D, high to low) for Wes, who "was doing a good job on it by the time he was 12 or 13." When Wes was 17, he and Monk returned to Indianapolis. "He was always a musician, but he wasn’t playing like when he was older," Serene adds. "When he had that 4-string, he would play a while and then ride his bike or play football. He would only talk to us so long before he’d go off with his box." Wes and Serene married in 1943, two years after they met. According to an early-’60s interview with the late jazz critic Ralph J. Gleason, Montgomery bought an amp and a Gibson 6-string guitar when he was 19; however, a biography in the Riverside archives with information supplied by Wes, cites his age as 20. Serene confirms this, remembering that it was after their first child was born. Although Wes had heard records by Django Reinhardt and Les Paul, it was Charlie Christian who really caught his attention. "That cat tore everybody’s head up," he said in the early ’60s. "I never saw him in my life, but he said so much on records. I don’t care what instrument a cat played, if he didn’t understand and feel the things Charlie Christian was doing, he was a pretty poor musician." Wes was especially impressed by "Solo Flight," the Benny Goodman orchestra’s showcase for Christian’s ground-breaking horn-inspired single-note choruses. One of the first tasks Wes undertook with the 6-string was to learn Christian’s solos. "About six or eight months after I started playing I had taken all the solos off the record and got a job in a club just playing them," he told Gleason. "I’d play Charlie Christian’s solos, then lay out. Then a cat hired me for the Club 440. I went on the stand and played the solos. The guys in the band helped me a lot about different tunes, intros, endings and things they had. They wired me up on all those, but after that, that was it." One of the musicians who helped expand Wes’ knowledge was pianist Mel Lee, who later worked with B.B. King. Montgomery eventually went on the road for brief periods with The Brownskin Models, pianist/arranger Snookum Russell, and The Four Jacks And A King. "He was real good, but he didn’t read at all," says bassist Ray Brown, who played with Wes in Russell’s band in the mid ’40s. "We’d start a chart, Snookum would point to him, and he’d just eat it alive-he had those kinds of ears. We recorded, but the 78s never came out. Wes was with us for two or three months, and then he got homesick and went back to Indianapolis, which was a real center of musical activity in the Midwest. A lot of bandleaders picked up musicians there." Serene remembers when Wes went out with The Four Jacks And A King: "I guess he was the king, because they sang and he played the guitar. They went to New York and thought maybe they would hit it, but they like to starve to death." Between road trips he would return to Indianapolis and resume a grueling schedule of nighttime gigs and working various day jobs to support the family. In the late ’40s, Wes, apparently eager to expand his influences, occasionally drove to Detroit to hear Kenny Burrell, whose reputation was spreading even though he was still in his teens. "Musician friends of mine in Detroit and elsewhere mentioned that I had been an influence and inspiration to Wes," Kenny states. "I met him when I was not only working a lot in Detroit, but also doing a lot of sitting in. I played mainly at the Club Sudan, which had a policy of no alcohol so teenagers could go in. Once in a while Wes and his friend [saxophonist Alonzo] ’Pookie’ Johnson would drive over from Naptown. I didn’t realize the significance of this until later, when Wes had become such a great and important guitarist. Wes just listened when he came to Detroit, but we slowly became friends. As I got to know him I realized that he was very shy. I didn’t really see him very much after that until he came to New York." In 1948 vibraphonist Lionel Hampton’s big band passed through Indy, and Montgomery was taken on board. The engagement lasted two years. Brief unamplified solos from this period show him to be still influenced by Christian, whom Hampton had worked with nearly a decade earlier as a member of the Benny Goodman Sextet. According to the autobiography Hamp, Wes’ band mates included bassist Charles Mingus and trumpeter Teddy Buckner. Maurice J. Summerfield’s The Jazz Guitar-Its Evolution And Its Players states that his colleagues "nicknamed him ’Rev. Montgomery’ because he was a teetotaller." Wes told Ralph J. Gleason he became aware of Tal Farlow’s advanced guitar work during this period. (From 1951 to 1953 Hampton’s band featured Monk Montgomery on electric bass, as well as trumpeters Art Farmer, Quincy Jones, and Clifford Brown.) Over the next few years Wes constantly gigged in Indianapolis. According to Buddy Montgomery, "All the musicians in Indianapolis ended up playing with somebody sometime. If you were professional, you ended up playing with musicians who were also professional." Other jazzmen active in the area included bassist Leroy Vinnegar, drummer Benny Barth, and, later, trombonist Slide Hampton and trumpeter Freddie Hubbard. In 1955 Wes joined the Montgomery-Johnson Quintet, with Buddy and Monk Montgomery, drummer Sonny Johnson, and Alonzo Johnson (the Johnsons were not related). That same year, the group participated in a New York session for Columbia, recording "Love For Sale" for an album that was never completed. Although Wes’ one-chorus solo showed that he had advanced beyond the level exhibited during his days with Hampton, it lacked the refinement and excitement he would eventually be known for. Toward the end of 1957, the Montgomery brothers, Hubbard, Alonzo Johnson, and drummer Paul Parker recorded several tunes in Indianapolis that were issued through World Pacific/Pacific Jazz. A few months later, Wes recorded for the label in Los Angeles with his brothers’ new group, the Mastersounds. Another date took place in 1959. (Buddy reports that Wes subbed for Monk on electric bass for at least one West Coast performance!) These sessions resulted in albums such as The Montgomery Brothers Plus Five Others, Kismet, and Montgomeryland, selected tracks of which are included on the Blue Note compilation Wes Montgomery/Beginnings. On numbers like "Wes’ Tune," "Billie’s Bounce," and "Old Folks," Montgomery clearly demonstrated that he had evolved his Christian-derived vocabulary into an exciting individual style. But while the releases failed to bring him sizeable national recognition-probably because he participated more as a sideman and continued to be based in Indianapolis-they did help introduce him to the jazz community. In September of 1959 saxophonist Cannonball and trumpeter Nat Adderley reached Naptown with a George Shearing big band. "We heard about this phenomenal guitar player, so we went to see him at The Guided Missile Room, a small after-hours place in the ghetto," trumpeter Nat Adderley remembers. "There wasn’t a phone in the club, so we went down to a filling station to call [Riverside producer] Orrin [Keepnews] at three or four o’clock in the morning. The station was all locked up, so we had to wait until the next day when we got back to New York." Keepnews lost no time in bringing Wes and his Indianapolis partners Paul Parker and organist Melvin Rhyne to the Big Apple for his first recording as leader, The Wes Montgomery Trio. "One day I got a call from Orrin Keepnews who said that Wes wanted to use my guitar and amplifier to make his debut album," Kenny Burrell adds. "I figured Wes liked what he had heard on my recordings, and figured my Gibson L-7 and Fender Twin would be okay for him. Whatever the reason, I felt complimented and pleased that he thought so much of me and my music. I was happy to help him out because he was a friend and he hadn’t brought his guitar with him. He didn’t like to fly, and my guess is that he didn’t like to take his guitar on the airplane-I still don’t like to take mine." Wes’ playing on tunes like "Missile Blues" and "’Round Midnight," which feature him moving from single-notes to octaves to chords, launched his Riverside period in stunning fashion. 1960’s brilliant follow-up, The Incredible Jazz Guitar Of Wes Montgomery, teamed him with pianist Tommy Flanagan and bassist Percy and drummer Albert Heath. "Somebody must have written his own tunes out for him when he came from Indianapolis, because he had the music," Flanagan recalls, referring to Wes’ apparent inability to read music. "They were good songs: ’West Coast Blues,’ a waltz that was different for the time, and ’Four On Six,’ based on ’Summertime.’ That was one of his first major recordings, so I guess he just let it all hang out. He was very humble at the date, acting in awe of us as players. He was a little nervous because he didn’t read or couldn’t see a note as big as his head, but his knowledge went far beyond anything that we knew. We were stunned by his incredible musicianship. It was unusual to hear a guitarist play in that style with just his thumb." That same year, Wes appeared on Nat Adderley’s Work Song, Harold Land’s West Coast Blues, and Cannonball Adderley And The Poll Winners. He also recorded Movin’ Along-on which he even played 6-string bass-and The Montgomery Brothers (issued on Fantasy) with Buddy and Monk. But while he was named New Star on guitar in Down Beat’s Critics Poll for 1960 and earned top honors in its Critics and Readers polls for the next two years, he was disappointed in the money he was making. Keepnews recalls trying to cheer him up at one point: "I told him, ’A year ago you were unknown and broke. Now you’re a star and broke. That’s real progress.’" From 1960 to 1962 Montgomery settled in San Francisco, partly to minimize the long commute back to Indianapolis. "When he lived in San Francisco, I stayed in Indianapolis to take care of our kids," Serene recalls. "I could always get a hold of him; he wouldn’t leave home without telling us where he’d be." In 1961 Wes briefly joined saxophonist John Coltrane’s group, which included pianist McCoy Tyner, saxophonist Eric Dolphy, and drummer Elvin Jones; no recordings are known to exist. In addition to the Monterey Jazz Festival, they played a memorable engagement at San Francisco’s Jazz Workshop. "It was a very expensive band," Keepnews remembers. "Musicians were very fond of the Workshop’s owner, who was taking a beating because the sets were so long; the lines were long, but you’re not making money when people are standing on the street. There was a band meeting where Wes suggested that they should cut down on the length of the tunes. He said, ’John should be able to play as much as he wants, but I’m willing to cut down my solos and I’m sure that Eric would be willing to do the same.’ Wes told me that when he glanced over at Eric Dolphy after saying that, he understood the meaning of the phrase ’if looks could kill’ for the first time." That same year, Wes collaborated with Buddy and Monk on Grooveyard And The Montgomery Brothers, The Montgomery Brothers In Canada, and Love Walked In, which also featured George Shearing. Then he teamed with vibraphonist Milt Jackson for the dynamic Bag Meets Wes. The only album under his own name was So Much Guitar!, arguably his best effort for the year. Ron Carter, bassist on the session, recalls, "Since Wes wasn’t noted for writing out his music, we worked it all out by ear when we got to the date. For as complicated as his music was, it was also musically logical. We couldn’t figure out why we hadn’t thought of that. He was very comfortable to play with. My musical concern was how to make my notes fit his but not be overwhelmed by the roundness of his guitar sound; since he played with his thumb, his sound was very velvety and didn’t have that edge that pick players or fingernail players have. So it made me play in a different part of the bass than normal. As it turned out they were the right choices to make. Wes showed us the tunes until we got them right. It wasn’t a problem with [pianist] Hank Jones, and I wasn’t too far behind. Hank and I worked out the chords and the forms between the two of us. Wes wondered how I caught on so fast, and I said that even though what he was doing was new, he was playing so logically that it was easy to catch on. My job was to meet him there at the corner." Part II Wes’ sole recording for 1962 was Full House, with saxophonist Johnny Griffin and Miles Davis’ rhythm section at the time-pianist Wynton Kelly, bassist Paul Chambers, and drummer Jimmy Cobb. (Davis apparently objected to their participation, but when Kelly asked the trumpeter if he would compensate them for the pay they’d be passing up, the go-ahead was given.) Recorded live, the album captured Wes at the height of his powers, taking especially extended solos on "Blue ’N’ Boogie," "Cariba," "Come Rain Or Come Shine," and the title track. After residing on the West Coast, Montgomery made his way back to New York. Gigs were available, but he ran into a problem when he applied for the necessary cabaret card. "He was accused of filling out the questionnaire falsely," Keepnews relates. "Wes stated that he had never been arrested. As it turned out, he had an arrest record in Indianapolis. It had the notation V.A.D., which didn’t mean anything to anybody at police headquarters in Manhattan. In Indianapolis Wes had worked pretty consistently at this after-hours joint, the Missile Room. Apparently there had been a raid, and all the musicians were taken downtown, booked, and then turned loose." A New York cop who had taken a liking to Wes because they both had a large family learned that V.A.D stood for "visiting a dive." Realizing the charge’s insignificance, the police issued the card and Wes was free to work the city. 1963’s initial session not only was a first for Wes, but also foreshadowed a future direction in his career. Fusion!/Wes Montgomery With Strings featured his guitar framed by Jimmy Jones’ stunning, large-scale arrangements. To familiarize Jones with the material, Wes recorded sketches of the tunes at home. Kenny Burrell played second guitar on the date: "I had charts to read-mainly chord symbols, because I was playing a lot of rhythm. Wes and I improvised the introduction to ’God Bless The Child,’ which Jimmy Jones felt would set up the mood before the other strings came in. Also on that tune, I felt there was a good balance between Wes’ electric and my acoustic. Wes probably had memorized his parts-the melodies and so forth-but the other musicians loved him. That was one of the smoothest sessions I’ve ever done. The string players especially acknowledged his artistry; if they liked what you were doing, they’d tap the music stands with their bows. That really relaxed Wes and made him feel happy." Shortly following the dates that produced Fusion!, Wes returned to the familiarity of the organ trio, teaming with Jimmy Cobb and long-time cohort Mel Rhyne. The result was Boss Guitar, actually released before the strings album. Two more sessions took place in 1963, which ultimately produced Portrait Of Wes and Guitar On The Go. In 1964, Wes’ Riverside days abruptly ended when the label was forced to go out of business. With the exception of Fusion!/Wes Montgomery With Strings, the Riverside sessions had featured small groups that focused on improvisation and interplay. Always the perfectionist, Wes had refined his lush sound and developed his trademark octaves into a high art. His three-stage approach to soloing, which organically climaxed by moving from single-notes to octaves to chords, reached its zenith. The Riverside recordings "represent Montgomery at his peak," according to The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz. Unfortunately, Wes’ monetary gains didn’t equal his artistic triumphs with Riverside. "He didn’t sell worth a damn," Keepnews confirms. Montgomery soon moved to Verve, coming under the auspices of producer Creed Taylor, whose intentions are stated in Adrian Ingram’s book Wes Montgomery [Ashley Mark]: "I decided that if people were going to hear Wes Montgomery, I would have to record him in a culturally acceptable context. I wasn’t particularly enamored with surrounding him with strings, but if that was a way of getting him known to more people, then that was the way it had to be." So began Montgomery’s "commercial period," where the emphasis was on large-scale arrangements and accessible material. Movin’ Wes was issued first; Bumpin’ followed in 1964. 1965’s dynamic blowing session, Smokin’ At The Half Note, reunited Wes with Kelly, Chambers, and Cobb, and represented a brief rekindling of Riverside’s spirit and freedom. Recorded later that same year, Goin’ Out Of My Head not only marked a return to the large-ensemble format, but also proved to be a financial turning point in Wes’ career: It sold extremely well and ultimately earned a Grammy for best jazz instrumental. For many years, Wes’ fear of flying had limited the extend of his tours-and possibly taken its toll on his physical well-being. "In the ’60s we were both very busy, but I was flying a lot and he was driving," Kenny Burrell reminisces. "It took its wear and tear on him to play in Chicago one night and open in Los Angeles a couple of days later. As a friend, it was one of my concerns about him. I often wondered why he didn’t take a little more time between gigs, and my guess is that he didn’t want to demand that. He was the kind of person who didn’t want to create any problems. I don’t think I ever saw him mad." Montgomery’s venture abroad in 1965 represented one of the few times he was persuaded to board a plane. "He would have driven there if he could have," Keepnews adds. While in England, Wes appeared on the BBC television program Jazz 625, which provides an invaluable visual document of his vast capabilities. Backed by piano, bass, and drums, Wes displays his prowess on six tunes, including "Yesterdays," "Jingles," and "Full House." Frequent close-ups of his hands illuminate many long-standing technical questions. In 1966, Wes continued to record in lush, formulaic settings, issuing Tequila and California Dreaming. A year later, he and Taylor moved to A&M, producing A Day In The Life-another best-seller-and Down Here On The Ground. Road Song came out in 1968. While all of Wes’ "commercial" output had redeeming qualities-catchy, interesting grooves and beautifully stated melodies-improvisation was minimal, the material limited, and the context anything but spontaneous. Nevertheless, many contemporary artists cite the Verve and A&M releases among their first introductions to jazz guitar. Montgomery was disappointed by how the jazz press took his last few records to task. "Those who criticize me for playing jazz too simply are missing the point," he observed in a 1968 issue of Down Beat. "When I came up big on the Billboard charts, they couldn’t decide whether to call me a jazz or a pop artist. There is a different direction in my music these days; there is a jazz concept to what I’m doing, but I’m playing popular music and it should be regarded as such." But he was also disappointed by another aspect of his popularity. In the Sept. ’72 issue of Guitar Player, Barney Kessel quoted him as saying, "See those people out there? They didn’t come to hear me, they came to see me play my hit records, because when I do a tune of mine or Coltrane’s ’Giant Steps,’ they get bored and start talking." Although Wes had been on the road a great deal over the years, Indianapolis remained his home. In 1968 he returned to see a doctor. "For a while he had been taking nitroglycerine for his heart," Serene recalls, "but he wouldn’t tell me and the children that he wasn’t feeling well. He had a heart attack and died in my arms on June 15th. He was scheduled to go overseas the next week." Montgomery’s death stunned the jazz community. "I think Tal Farlow-whom Wes admired a lot-told me that he had died," says Jim Hall. "It was quite a shock. He was just a nice family guy." But Wes was also a complex individual who was "not easily explored," as Buddy puts it. He was exceedingly self-critical, and for unknown reasons experienced headaches, dizzy spells, and nervousness. Yet most of his associates best remember the simpler aspects of his persona. "He was really nice and sort of unsophisticated, a plain kind of man," Nat Adderley says. "He had been a welder-a salt-of-the-earth kind of person with this tremendous talent. He was a great jazz talent in a plain unsophisticated man." Jim Hall particularly recalls Wes’ humorous side: "After mentioning that I practiced a lot whenever I was playing with [saxophonist] Sonny Rollins, Wes said, ’I never practice; I just open the case and throw in a piece of meat.’ The implication being that the guitar is a beast in the case. One time he was playing at the Monterey Jazz Festival and didn’t have an amp, so I volunteered to go to a local shop and pick one up. When he saw the size of this huge thing, he said, ’Man, I ain’t going to play that much guitar!’" But for those who didn’t know Wes personally, it’s his music that speaks most eloquently. Its timeless sound, spirit, variety, and vocabulary ensure that it will be referenced far into the future. "Had he lived a little longer I’m sure he would have been even more stunned about how he was the first person in many a year to revolutionize what guitarists sound like," Ron Carter summarizes. Now and forevermore, Wes lives! Yesterdays
