<html><head></head><body><div class="ydpe2dd92dbyahoo-style-wrap" style="font-family:verdana, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:16px;"><div></div>
<div><div><div style="text-align: left; color: rgb(38, 40, 42); text-transform: none; text-indent: 0px; letter-spacing: normal; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; word-spacing: 0px; white-space: normal; orphans: 2; background-color: transparent;" dir="ltr">The following is a slightly amended version of a review of Acrobat’s 3xCD set of Frank (aka ‘Frankie’) Newton’s work, written by Jim Denham for Just Jazz magazine:<br></div></div></div></div><div class="ydp9ce4b41eyahoo_quoted" id="ydp9ce4b41eyahoo_quoted_2866784824"><div style="font-family:'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;color:#26282a;"><div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qHhComkIC4Frank " target="_blank" rel="nofollow">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qHhComkIC4Frank </a>Newton And His Orchestra - The Blues My Baby Gave To Me<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">The following is a slightly amended version of a review of Acrobat’s 3xCD set of Frank (aka ‘Frankie’) Newton’s work, written by Jim Denham for Just Jazz magazine:<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr"> <br></div><div dir="ltr">Frankie Newton - The Frankie Newton Collection - Acrobat / Trapeze <br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">________________________________<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">The only extensive collection of trumpeter Frank Newton’s work (a double CD by Jasmine records released in 2005) prior to this Acrobat set, was entitled “The Story of a Forgotten Jazz Trumpeter”.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">To describe Newton as “forgotten” might be a slight exaggeration, but these days he’s certainly overlooked and even during his lifetime he was seriously underrated.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">And yet he recorded alongside some of the biggest names in jazz and was prominently featured on two famous records that even non-jazz people are likely to have heard: Bessie Smith’s Gimme A Pigfoot (from her final session in 1933) and Billie Holiday’s Strange Fruit (not included in this collection though I Gotta Right To Sing The Blues, from the same 1939 session, is). He also played on one of the big jukebox hits of the 1930’s: Maxine Sullivan’s Loch Lomond.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">Along the way he played and recorded with Sidney Bechet, James P. Johnson, Dicky Wells, Willie ‘The Lion’ Smith, Bud Freeman, Don Byas, Teddy Wilson, Mary Lou Williams, Benny Carter and Ed Hall – to name just a few. He jammed with Art Tatum and held his own, as can be confirmed by a listen to the amateur recording happily included here (Lady Be Good). Years later Ruby Braff cited him as a major influence and recommended his work to a young Jon-Eric Kellso.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">Despite all this, Newton dropped out of music in the early 1950s, demoralised, boozing and angry, and died (in 1954) in near-poverty, dreaming of a comeback that was never to be. The reasons for Newton’s obscurity and commercial failure are complex, involving a proud, sometimes argumentative, personality, frequent bouts of ill health and a commitment to political activism: as well as being heavily involved with the early Civil Rights movement he was also a card-carrying member of the Communist Party (someone recently commented, “the FBI file on Frankie should have a treasure trove of information”).<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">But what of the music itself? This three-CD set, like the earlier Jasmine compilation, reveals a forward-looking, harmonically sophisticated player with a rich, slightly cloudy tone and phrasing that could be jaunty (even cheeky – listen to Pigfoot) one moment and plaintive the next (no wonder Braff loved him).<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">Michael Steinman, at his excellent ‘Jazz Lives’ blog described Newton’s sound (and the Pigfoot solo specifically), thus: “And his many tones! Clouded, muffled, shining for a brief moment and then turning murky, needling, wheedling, guttural, vocal and personal.”<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">The highspots in this compilation are too numerous to list in full – Newton never seems to have made a poor record even when some of his collaborators (Art Karle, Chick Bullock, Mezz Mezzrow) were not of the highest calibre. In fairness to Mezz, despite his considerable limitations as a clarinettist (and don’t even mention his sax playing!) he was a good organiser and was responsible for some of the best tracks to be heard here, notably the hard-swinging The Panic Is On and Muntiny In The Parlor from March 1936, with Willie ‘The Lion’, Bud Freeman (wailing and honking like a proto rock’n’roller) and Newton himself playing some very advanced, boppish stuff.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">Although primarily a small-group player, Newton’s big-band work is worth taking notice of. Together with his friend Dicky Wells he joined the Teddy Hill Orchestra in the spring of 1936, playing with assurance on some ‘modernistic’ charts hinting at Bop. He also appeared and recorded with the Charlie Barnett Orchestra between 1935 and 1937 (the only black player in the band), his muted solo on Emperor Jones being a brilliant example of his contribution to this would-be Ellingtonian outfit.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">Sally-Anne Worsfold, in her booklet-notes to the Jasmine compilation, described Newton as “one of jazz’s ‘nearly’ men”, noting that on leaving the Teddy Hill Orchestra, he was succeeded by Dizzy Gillespie for whom the Hill band was “the springboard to fame and fortune” and that, having been a founder member of the John Kirby Sextet, Newton left the group just as it was beginning to take off, replaced by Charlie Shavers, whose subsequent career was ignited by the success of that group.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">But Newton is guaranteed a place in jazz history, if only because of one record, Blues My Baby Gave To Me (not to be confused with the 1920’s pop song with a similar name) recorded in January 1939 under the auspices of French jazz critic Hughes Panassie and his side-kick Mezz Mezzrow (him again!) during a session intended to represent contemporary small-group Swing. The band, apart from Mezz, included Newton’s long-term associate, the altoist Pete Brown, pianist James P. Johnson and guitarist Al Casey. All the participants were on top form, especially Newton. They cut six sides, of which can be heard in this compilation. Five of these are exciting, hard-swinging performances with Newton inspiring all his colleagues (even Mezz) to extraordinary heights. But the masterpiece is Blues My Baby Gave To Me, described by Thomas Cunliffe (of ‘Jazz History Online’) as “one of jazz’s few perfect records” and by Sally-Anne Worsfold (in her Jasmine notes) as a “profoundly moving blues expression with its brief nod to the ballad Willow Weep For Me.”<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr">Towards the end, Newton devoted himself to painting, political activity and social work, repairing instruments for youngsters in his neighbourhood and giving free lessons. The booklet to the present compilation includes a photo of him in 1951 at a left-wing summer camp (‘Camp Unity’) surrounded by a racially-mixed group of smiling youngsters. It seems that this was how Newton finally found some happiness and fulfilment: but for us, it’s his marvellous trumpet playing that counts.<br></div><div dir="ltr"><br></div><div dir="ltr"> <br></div><div dir="ltr">Frank Newton And His Orchestra - The Blues My Baby Gave To Me<br></div><div dir="ltr">Frank Newton (tp) Mezz Mezzrow (cl) Pete Brown (as) James P. Johnson (p) Albert Casey (g) John Kirby (b) Cozy Co... </div></div>
</div>
</div></body></html>