[Dixielandjazz] When Dixieland Rocked.

[Stephen G Barbone]

" . . .  some of the dancers slid off onto the floor which was  
littered with glasses, spilled drinks, ice, bottles, and debris. How  
injuries were avoided was a tribute to their youth and “relaxed  
physical condition.”

"As the performance continued to escalate, the condition became almost  
riotous; furniture was broken, and there were some “misunderstandings”  
as some of the dancers tried to “team up” with more “talented”  
partners. But through it all ,the size and diversity of the crowd,  
coupled with the unbelievable outpouring of rhythm and music, the  
realization that this wasn’t an event to be interrupted or stopped— 
like a world record in progress—held everything together through one  
final chorus to a roaring and satisfying finish."



Where did this happen? At a Rock Concert?  Who were these out of  
control fans? Read on to see that there is nothing new as far as kids  
and music are concerned. So before we trash todays musically  
challenged kids, lets look at ourselves when we were kids. The below  
scene happened every Friday and Saturday night for a decade or so, as  
those of us who were there will attest.

Cheers,

Steve Barbone



A memory circa 1950 - by Thad McArthur - (The Central Plaza was in NYC)

Central Plaza was an upstairs (second floor) hall about the size of a  
present-day double wide high school basketball floor. High ceiling and  
quite well lit, slightly the worse for time and wear, it had a  
bandstand on one side, about sixty big round tables plus some banquet  
seating. It crowded in more than 500 people. It appealed greatly to  
the young college-age crowd—small cover charge, good viewing,  
sometimes dancing space and a very unusual liquor policy. You could  
buy beer or liquor by the drink or by the bottle downstairs or bring  
your own from wherever and buy ice and mixers. They packed them in on  
Friday and Saturday nights without much regard for fire codes. As you  
might well imagine, spirits and the noise level ran very high.  
Generally, two traditional jazz bands alternated sets from 8:00 PM to  
1:00 or 2:00 AM.

This particular night the main attraction was Henry “Red” Allen, a  
very strong New Orleans-originating trumpet player who was only a note  
behind Louis Armstrong in power and musicianship. Henry was probably  
at his peak in his early fifties. The second band was Conrad Janis and  
the Tailgaters. Conrad (Mindy’s father in the Mork and Mindy TV series  
in the late sixties/seventies and a featured actor in many movies  
since then) was in his mid-twenties and a very strong, enthusiastic  
trombone player and leader. He still leads a group in Hollywood,  
playing celebrity engagements.

As the evening moved along, the young crowd started yelling for “The  
Saints.” Henry smiled and kept playing a very powerful and interesting  
set of traditional songs. When his set was over and Conrad and the  
Tailgaters came on for their next set the crowd got louder, yelling  
and stomping for “The Saints.” After a tune or two, the Tailgaters  
launched into a loud and enthusiastic rendition of “The Saints.” The  
kids responded with enthusiasm, dancing and clapping, and the band  
played louder and louder in response for ten or twelve minutes,  
finishing the set to great cheers and applause.

After a few minutes break to change bands and get set up, Henry “Red”  
Allen came on, gave the band a strong beat and hit “The Saints,” with  
more power than I have every experienced (there was little or no sound  
amplification). There was no doubt that he was going to give them “The  
Saints,” like they had never heard it before. The tune itself is very  
simple. It has a little intro and then a repetitious 16-bar chorus  
that goes around and around, hence his reluctance to play it in the  
first place. He didn’t let it become repetitious that night. It came  
around again and again but each time stronger, higher, variations,  
improvisations, physical gyrations, unbelievable stamina that I didn’t  
even see at the Helsinki Olympics. The more they played, the more the  
crowd got into it until it was almost unreal. This wasn’t one man  
soloing and the others taking a breather, this was tight ensemble work  
with all seven musicians carrying the ball and Henry leading the  
charge on the most demanding instrument.

Many people started dancing between the tables and then decided there  
was more room on the table tops. Couples dancing on the many big round  
tables (lots of Charleston-ing) were at the mercy of their friends who  
stood around the tables and started tilting the tables until some of  
the dancers slid off onto the floor which was littered with glasses,  
spilled drinks, ice, bottles, and debris. How injuries were avoided  
was a tribute to their youth and “relaxed physical condition.”

As the performance continued to escalate, the condition became almost  
riotous; furniture was broken, and there were some “misunderstandings”  
as some of the dancers tried to “team up” with more “talented”  
partners. But through it all ,the size and diversity of the crowd,  
coupled with the unbelievable outpouring of rhythm and music, the  
realization that this wasn’t an event to be interrupted or stopped— 
like a world record in progress—held everything together through one  
final chorus to a roaring and satisfying finish.

45 minutes of the simple, repetitious “Saints” —90, 100 or more  
choruses and each one better than the one before—a unique and  
unforgettable experience.