“As astonishing as seeing someone riding a horse on their head.” A Second Sunday With The Boss; Boisdale On The Mighty Pitey Part II

In the second part of our interview with Richard Pite, the virtuoso vintage jazzman tells Jonathan Wingate how hearing Ella Fitzgerald sing brings tears to his eyes and why witnessing Buddy Rich perform was “as astonishing as seeing someone riding a horse on their head.”

  

You are known as a jazz drummer, but you also play double bass and tuba / sousaphone. How did you end up playing those other instruments?

I started on the tuba at the age of 12 because I was in the Boys Brigade silver band. In silver (and brass) bands, you were parping continuously, so it was far better in orchestras where you’d play four notes and then have 8000 bars to rest before playing another two notes. The problem was that I was very bad at counting bars and consequently I wouldn’t get asked back.

When I played in the Rio Trio, I would often play the sousaphone with my right hand and drum with my left, but that is undoubtedly a young man’s game. Now I’m 57, I’m too permanently knackered to do such a ridiculous thing.

Richard Pite on Tuba/Sousaphone & Drums

Of all the gigs you’ve been to over the years, which ones were the most memorable?

In 1979 a madman working for Middleborough Council brought the entire Newport Jazz Festival over and plonked them on the stage in the middle of Middleborough Football Club. I saw Lionel Hampton’s Big Band, which was a delirious experience. It was pretty chaotic on stage, but it was undoubtedly the best thing I’ve ever seen.

Lionel Hampton's Big Band

I also saw Buddy Rich at the San Francisco Opera House the following year. Seeing him was always like a combination of going to a concert and going to a circus. The music was terrific, of course, but seeing Buddy perform was as astonishing as seeing someone fired from a cannon or seeing someone riding a horse on their head. Being a young drummer, you wouldn’t think – Oh, I must go home and practice that. You’d just think – Oh, bloody hell.

Buddy Rich & The Impossible Drum Solo

Who would you say is the most exciting musician you ever worked with?

The most exciting musician I ever worked with was a brilliant drummer called Andy Spofforth. He made me realise how terrible I was, and unlike Buddy, he inspired me to go home and practice.

If you were to recommend five jazz artists that you think non-jazz aficionados should listen to, who would they be and why?

Erroll Garner and Louis Armstrong, mainly because they both exude joy. People try to imitate them today, but it’s not that easy, and within two seconds of listening to the originals, you know it’s them.

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Anything by Miles Davis before his Bitches Brew period. Listening to Miles makes girls think you’re intellectual and sophisticated. Lester Young – the greatest tenor sax player you will ever hear. Ella Fitzgerald – particularly when she sings With A Song In My Heart. It makes me want to blub every time I hear it.

Ella Fitzgerald - With A Song In My Heart

How much has the jazz scene in London changed since you first started?

The one good thing about recorded music becoming virtually a free commodity is that it has led to a revival in live music. When I first started playing I was into vintage jazz, so in order to pay the mortgage, I was performing everywhere from petrol stations and DIY stores to weddings and corporate parties. Now I play jazz clubs, theatres and festivals, which is bloody fantastic as I no longer have to hide from the toastmaster or the bride’s mother.

Jazz is the music I hate the most as well as love the most. When it’s bad, it’s really bad. One of the problems with jazz people is that they are hyper – sensitive to criticism – if a celebrity says they hate jazz the furore from the jazz world is something to behold.  Recently someone did a spoof interview with Sonny Rollins – my god did that rile people – I thought it was hilarious.  Jazzers feel we must stick together or our tiny patch in the musical allotment will shrivel and die.

Having worked as our Director of Music since we opened 25 years ago, you are probably in a better position than most to explain just what it is that makes Boisdale so special.

Boisdale is like one of those old clubs on 52nd Street. We look back and think they were like recital rooms with Thelonious Monk or ‘Bird’ playing to rapt, silent audiences. Of course they weren’t. They were full of hookers, sailors on leave, drunken businessmen and lowlife.  The Boisdale  audiences are far classier than that but don’t expect rapt attention – they’re too busy having a good time.

Thelonious Monk - Blue Monk

Of all of the incredible gigs we’ve put on since Boisdale first started, the most memorable one was probably the Bratislava Hot Serenaders at Canary Wharf in July. The 12 million Londoners who didn’t show up for the gig missed a truly glorious evening. I almost cried with pleasure.

What is the best piece of musical advice you have ever been given?

My drum teacher, Joel Rothman, said: ‘Don’t speed up, don’t slow down, don’t bugger up the ending, don’t play too loudly, don’t play too much, don’t turn up late and always wear a clean shirt.’