Down for Double

By Michael Bourne I Nov. 27, 2017

JH: Dave explained, “Well, we put three voices on the tape, and we take that tape off, and you put the other voices on until we’ve got all 12 of Basie’s instruments, and then we combine all those tapes on one tape.” We started doing that. It took about three months. We did the lead voices first, then the second three, but the result was you heard only the last six voices. It was a hodge podge, so we had to start over. We took another three months, but we did the last voices first and the first voices last, so that the first voices would be out front.

Certainly you sang harmonies, but the group wasn’t really about three-part harmony so much as about counterpoint, or sections riffing like in a big band.

AR: Exactly. I’ll be singing a line and Jon will be singing another line, but with different lyrics. It makes for intense concentration.

It’s not only that you’re singing lines with horns, but, Jon, when you scat, you finger the air like you’re playing a saxophone.

JH: I do it involuntarily. My hands just go up automatically. I’d love to be a saxophone player. That’s my secret ambition.

You were both friends of Charlie Parker. Bird appeared in your life, Jon, when you were going to be a lawyer.

JH: I was getting a 3.5 average at the University of Toledo. I was working with a group downtown at night, but I had no ideas of pursuing music further. I’d been in music already all my life. I was going to be a lawyer and donate my services to the legal arm of the NAACP, to try to help with the racial situation at that time, which was very acute. But one night, when he came to town, I sat in with Charlie Parker. I was so nervous. I took about 10 choruses. And when I started to leave the bandstand, I felt this tug. Charlie had pulled my coat. Kenny Dorham was soling, and Charlie and I had this conversation. He asked me, “What are you doing?”

“I’m studying law.”

“You’re not a lawyer.”

“What am I?”

“You’re a jazz singer.”

“What do I do about that?”

“You’ve got to come to New York.”

“I don’t know anyone in New York.”

“Well, you know me.”

“Where will I find you?”

“Just ask anybody.”

And I thought, “This cat is crazy.” But two years and four months later, I went to New York, got off the Greyhound bus, called Joe Carroll, and said, “Where is Bird?” And he said, “The Apollo Bar, 125th Street and 7th Avenue.” I went that night, and he was playing “The Song Is You.” I walked past the bandstand, and he stopped right in the middle of a solo and said, “Hey, Jon, how you doing? Want to sing something?” And then he picked right up on the chord. Amazing, the mind this cat had.

Will the two of you be recording?

JH: Absolutely. Annie’s written a great lyric to a song of Russ Freeman’s called “Music Is Forever.” We’ve got to get that done with strings and woodwinds. Real lush.

AR: That’s my dream.

JH: That song deserves the best possible treatment, the most high-class string section, some good woodwinds.

AR: And a harp.

JH: Yeah!

Going back can be iffy. What finally brought you two back together?

JH: We had a catalyst, a young man named Jonathan Cohen, who was managing me. He said, “All my friends, their parents turned them on to Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. They’re all hip to you guys, and I think you guys ought to get back together and get this new young audience.” I said it was OK by me. Annie was working at Birdland, and I went, and Annie called me up on the last tune, “Jumpin’ At The Woodside.” We did this number and I never saw anything like it in my life.

AR: They went crazy.

JH: Everybody on their feet.

AR: They were running outside, trying to find those instant cameras, and saying this was jazz history.

JH: I said something is in the wind, and it’s stronger than either of us. I called Annie the next day and said, “Hey, something is going on beside the rent.”

There must’ve been so many moments when you thought about singing.

AR: When you want something so much, you can’t live for it all the time. You have to put it somewhere for a while. Otherwise, you drive yourself crazy. You can’t talk about it, because you have to deal with things at hand. But it’s always there.

JH: Everytime I would perform, people would always say, “Do you think Lambert, Hendricks and Ross will ever get back together?” I think we created something that is eternal, because the fact that we could reunite 35 years and get the reception we got means only one thing: that what we did is good, and good is forever.

So now the road awaits. How much will you do this?

JH: Everywhere!

AR: Absolutely!

JH: For everybody. Forever. You know, we were the No. 1 group in the world for five years, and yet there are lands and nations where we were No. 1 but we’ve never been to.

AR: We’ve never been to Japan.

JH: South Africa.

AR: South America.

JH: We’ve never been to Russia. Australia.

AR: There all these places to go.