Just when you thought Capitol had exhausted every imaginable format for marketing its back catalog of ‘50s swing, lounge and exotica, along comes a new entry in the label’s popular Ultra-Lounge franchise: Wild, Cool & Swingin’: The Artist Collections.
Unlike previous Ultra-Lounge releases, compilation records organized around kitschy themes like Mondo Exotica and Space Capades, the Wild, Cool & Swingin’ series highlights individual performers, and Capitol has chosen the wildest, coolest, most swingin’ cat of all to inaugurate the series: New Orleans-born showman Louis Prima.
If that weren’t cause enough for celebration, Prima’s longtime band leader and arranger, Sam Butera, is also the subject of a Wild, Cool & Swingin’ release, marking the first time a collection of Butera’s vintage solo sides with the Witnesses has been reissued domestically.
The Prima collection is a deluxe two-disc set of 44 tracks recorded for Capitol Records between 1956 and 1962, when Prima’s phenomenally popular nightclub act was the toast of Las Vegas. Combining a big rhythm and blues beat with swinging jazz, novelty songs, a dash of Dixieland and sentimental standards (the arrangements were Butera’s), Prima, vocalist Keely Smith and backing band Sam Butera and the Witnesses created a wild new sound with more than a passing resemblance to rock and roll. Prima played the contrast between he and Smith—physically, vocally and temperamentally—for laughs, yet somehow, improbably, their voices complemented each other’s brilliantly.
When Prima went into the studio for Capitol in 1956, the goal was to capture the raucous energy of his live act, and he succeeded magnificently. If tracks like “Jump, Jive an’ Wail,” “Five Months, Two Weeks, Two Days,” “Buona Sera,” “Oh Marie,” “Hey Boy! Hey Girl!” and “That Old Black Magic” don’t get your blood pumping, you should probably check your toe for a tag. Much of the material presented on The Artist Collection should be familiar to fans of Prima; with a handful of exceptions, it features every track included on Capitol’s 1991 single-disc Prima anthology The Capitol Collectors Series.
Unfortunately, two of the earlier disc’s giddiest moments, the Sputnik-inspired “Beep Beep” and movie theme “Twist All Night,” are among the omissions. Of the 23 tracks not included on the earlier collection, highlights include swingin’ gems like “The Closer to the Bone,” “Felicia No Capicia,” and medleys of “Robin Hood” and “Oh Babe” and “Don’t Worry Bout Me” and “I’m in the Mood for Love.”
Disappointingly, only two cuts, 1962’s “John Ping Pong” and a 1958 recording of “(Nothing’s Too Good) For My Baby” (also represented in a 1956 recording) are previously unreleased, and the self-consciously hip, irritatingly brief liner notes don’t hold a candle to the meticulous bio and song-by-song notes on The Capitol Collector Series. Still, for fans reluctant to invest in the reissues of Prima’s Capitol albums, available as imports, The Artist Collection fills a much needed niche.
While the Prima set covers familiar, if more expansive, territory, the Butera disc is the real gem in the series. Butera, who cut his teeth in big bands with Tommy Dorsey and Ray McKinley, is more of a jazz player than King Curtis-style honker, but on these 20 tracks, the tenor saxophonist shows off his rock and roll chops. Tunes like “Bim Bam,” “Up Jumped A Rabbit,” “Fever” and “Dig That Crazy Chick” showcase Butera’s swaggering vocals and have more in common with Bill Haley or Eddie Cochran than Louis and Keely. Pretender to the throne Harry Connick, Jr., could learn a thing or two by listening to Butera’s reading of “French Poodle.” Seven tracks feature Butera vocals, with the remainder a mix of alternately swingin’ (“Too Young,” “Hey There,” “Perdido,” “Song from the Moulin Rouge,” “On the Street Where You live,” “La Vie En Rose”) and boozy (“Night Train,” “Harlem Nocturne,” “Street Scene,” “I Love Paris,” “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”) instrumentals. Again, more extensive liner notes on Butera’s career would have been appreciated, especially since a comprehensive anthology of Butera’s solo work has yet to be issued, but I’m not complaining. Butera is at long last earning his props as the architect of Prima’s sound, and The Artist Collection provides a long-awaited complement to that more familiar body of work.
