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As
fulfilling as it was to pull my own
music and score big ratings during
my jock career, I can only imagine
how deeply satisfying it must have
been to be Paul Weston..
He not only conceived the music but arranged it brilliantly, and oversaw its marketing as head of Artists and Repertoire at Capitol and Columbia Records. Not just one of the great masters of all the musical genres of popular music, he wrote masses for the Catholic church, including 5th century Gregorian chants. The Vatican honored him, making him a “prince of the church.” I have related to you the story about the time in 1951 that I was sitting with him at lunch at the Beverly Hills Hotel poolside when Skitch Henderson happened by., and asked him what he was doing. Paul told him about the 5th century Gregorian chants that had just then been accepted by Rome. Henderson, not to be topped, asked, “Why didn’t you write it in the more enlightened 7th century style?” Paul, eyed him sharply and said, “Skitch if everyone thought like you, there would have been no 5th century Gregorian. Paul Weston was the father of Mood Music, putting out albums, ranging from the 50’s 60’s. and 70’s, performed by the greatest musicians of the era. I went to a recording session in the mid-50’s where he had assembled such greats as Paul Smith at piano, Babe Russin on tenor sax, Nick Fatool on drums, George Van Eps, the genius of the seven string guitar, Barney Kessel one of the absolute greatest guitarists ever, Bill Schaeffer on “bone” and a string section consisting of the first chairs of the major movie studios,. They took turns at first chair to honor Paul and to avoid squabbling over who was the alpha violinist. In all, there were some thirty musicians of that caliber assembled that day to perform an album called, “Caribbean Music for a Rainy Night:,” with “Perfidia, Adios, Cuban Love Song,” y mucho mas. Typical of that era, none of his musicians had seen the sheet music until they sat down with it for the first time. He gave them a few moments to sight read the scores, then…. He jumped onto the podium, his usually pleasant demeanor now vanished, replaced by a stern, in-control task master. They all had played with him for years, and immediately cut the small talk, at the ready for his down beat. To them, Paul was a comparative picnic. Most had played under Benny Goodman, known for his merciless cruelty from the podium, He had been known to fire musicians on the spot for anything less than perfection during a session or dance date. He not only fired them, but fixed them with a deathly stare that Paul dubbed “the ray/” The first song in the session was “Adios.” Paul fixed the orchestra with a “mini-ray,” raised his arms in a commanding gesture, silently waved his baton in the tempo he wanted, and they began playing after four beats.. George van Eps, the guitarist had been chosen to strum the vamp, to be joined after a couple of measures by strings with a soft woodwind background led by Babe Russin, the tenor sax first chair.. Just as the brass came on in a restrained style deferring to the strings, Paul waved them off, his face frozen in concentration. Something wasn’t right, even though it sounded gorgeous to me. “George” he told van Eps. “Give me a harder lick on the vamp, almost Flamenco. Van Eps thought for a moment then unplugged his guitar and motioned the engineer to bring the mic in closer. He was going to deliver a steel string Flamenco version of the vamp he had just played. He strummed the intro with the new called-for style. “Like this?” He asked, looking up at Paul. Paul smiled and nodded in approval like he expected no less. The bridge was played hauntingly lush by trombonist Bill Schaeffer, in the long sustained notes enshrined by Tommy Dorsey. Schaeffer was anther jazz great, He ranged in style from a heraldic ride like the great trombonist Milt Bernhardt delivered on the bridge of Sinatra’s “What is this Thing Called Love?” to what he was doing now, with the mellow Dorsey-like solo. Like I told you,, they played the song sight unseen through for the first time, then on the second run-through, were ready to add whatever touches were needed by Paul for a successful “take.” The three hour minimum union session had run only two hours, but I was surprised to see the players remain seated, then saw why. Paul walked to the entrance of the studio and opened it to let in Frank Sinatra. The band members all knew Frank, and most had played for him. Paul led Frank to the podium and told the players that Frank would like to conduct them for the rest of the session A little known factoid: Paul Weston was Frank’s conducting mentor. They all happily took their instruments back out and began noodling scales in preparation for whatever Frank chose to lead them on. During this lull, Frank spied me, walked over, and greeted me. It had been four years since we had seen each other. We visited idly for a precious recording session minute, then he gave me his private phone number, put on his game face, wheeled around and strode to the podium. Paul and I stayed for a moment, then left for dinner. I had some clean-up to do with him. I mentioned the 1951 Beverly Hills Hotel luncheon with Paul in a prior piece. It was designed to set the stage for him to ask me to work for him after my discharge from the army. The gist at the luncheon was: Paul was going to join the legendary Herb Siegel in a revolutionary venture retailing phonograph records in super markets, He told me they were a couple of years away from launch and that if I was interested, I could go right into it after my army discharge.. He had cleared it with Siegel that I would go to the headquarters in Philly, to learn the business, then take over Baltimore/Washington as market manager, From there, I would come to Los Angeles to implement record rack jobbing in some 1000 supermarkets that were considered prime targets for the business they called., “Music Merchants”. At the time of his offer, I was mute. This was not my aim when I left the army. I wanted to be a Los Angeles morning jock. Paul knew this, and couched the offer in such a way that I could try to get back into radio and failing that, Music Merchants would be my fall back. I have related to you about my two years in the army at Redstone Arsenal where I wrote PIO articles and ran Special Services, rising to a sergeancy and winding up on my last day in the army, in General H N Toftoy’s office being offered the PIO gig at JPL in Pasadena. Whimsy wasn’t finished tossing me around.. When I left the army in 1953, I flubbed getting a Hollywood radio gig, and called Paul asking if the Music Merchants opportunity was still open. Paul was delighted and sent me to Philly to meet young Herb Siegel and get my marching orders. Herb is the same man who later owned Christ-Craft Industries, UPN, and served on major boards. He went on to become a corporate giant, so highly regarded that when Coke was in peril of being bought up by a hostile bidder, they gave Herb Coca Cola in a deal which he held protectively until Coke could muster a rally against the takeover,. He was a “white knight.” A singular honor for anyone, meaning they trusted him to hold Coke, and give it back when the heat was off. He was to be my new boss. I learned this revolutionary new business in Philly for a few months, then was assigned to Baltimore- Washington where I managed two route men, one in Baltimore, the other in Washington. I bought the records from the local distributors, and made sure the route men inventoried the stock in each store, and replaced what had been sold with an appropriate number of records in each of the 300 super-markets under my watch. I also made frequent trips to New York and reported my progress to major players in the industry. Jim Conkling, the president of Columbia Records was especially interested, He had granted a 10% discount to this fledgling new industry, compared with 5% from RCA and no discount from other major record manufacturers. That was the problem, the business was destined to fail unless discounts were granted by Capitol, Mercury, and others majors. The buying had to be tight as the record companies were only willing to allow us to return 5% of the records we had bought. ]n other words, it was a turkey. Six months into my turn in Baltimore-Washington, I projected a year’s worth of retail from 1000 supers in Los Angeles, which showed that if the buying was perfect with no mistakes, the profit margin would be a scant 3%. I called Paul and gave him the grim news and told him that I didn’t want to take his money and recommended that he bail out of the investment. He hung up, and called back after a couple of days, asking me to go to New York and report to some big league accountants, commissioned by an alarmed Herb Siegel to check my figures. You can only imagine how I felt,, not being a numbers man and going into the lion’s den of major accountants and report the Return On Investment according to my limited insights.. I was met by two stark looking men, and without social small talk, asked to proceed. My numbers added up. Two hours later, with my discourse over, one of the accountants allowed himself a smile and told me, admiringly “That took guts. You have done yourself out of a job.” Who knew it better than I? I returned to Los Angeles, armed with a couple of thousand dollars, sent me by Paul. and that appeared to be “it.” Not quite. That evening at Paul’s recording session was the first I had seen of him since bombing Music Merchants out of existence. When we sat down at the table at the Beverly Hill Hotel, I started to launch into a heartfelt apology , He let me get a few words out and cut me off.. :First if all, I am grateful to you for what you did in guiding me away from that investment and I am sure that Herb Siegel will agree when he recovers from his initial disappointment,. Herb is a young man with a great future,” He said, prophetically. Herb went on to be a captain of industry. He was married to Ann, one of the most elegant women I ever met.. She had been Grace Kelly’s Maiden of Honor when the princess married. Each time I went to New York to report, it was Ann who made sure a limo was at JFK to pick me up and drop me off at a posh hotel at their expense.. Paul broke into my reverie. He regarded me for a moment, then spoke. “Harry, when you were in New York, Conkling really liked you. He wants you to take over Epic Records.” Paul was referring to Jim Conkling, the president of Columbia Records. Epic was a new line that Columbia was attempting to get off the ground Paul kept going. “But…..I think I have a better opportunity for you, something that would be a better fit, and more fun.. Paul went on, “Columbia Records is looking for an American liaison with Philips Records, who would live in London and coordinate between Columbia and Phillips to establish their product internationally.” This was my turn to cut in. “Paul ! Stop! You are overwhelming me.” I took a deep breath and blurted out, “Paul, I have just signed a two year contract with Bartell radio in San Diego.” Any disappointment Paul felt at seeing his plans for me disrupted was laid aside. That was his style. My radio career took me to New York, Cleveland and Detroit with Paul cheering me on each time I called him about a new adventure... We spent the rest of that evening small talking and found that we still had plenty to talk about, a prelude to an on-going relationship that lasted until he died on September 20th 1996. Paul was 84. NEXT WEEK: Frank Sinatra’s impromptu turn in San Diego at Don Howard’s Club Tempo, and how this improbable event happened. |
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hare@happyhareonline.com
Hare's Biography |
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