Straight Life - Art Pepper [269]
The record company Art refers to in the last chapter of the book was Fantasy Records (Art recorded on their Galaxy label). The album he talks about was Art Pepper Today. It was a wonderful album and very successful, voted the best jazz album of the year in France, really popular in Japan, it even sold well here. They had recorded and released a second album, Straight Life, to coincide with the book tour. That album is one of my very favorites, and it did well, too.
When Fantasy signed Art early in '79, it seemed like a miracle to me. Since Les's death, I'd been trying, with no luck, to find Art a label. And he desperately longed for the security of a recording contract and the sense that some company would be his home. He needed a Daddy. He found one in Ralph Kaffel, the President of Fantasy. Ralph was actually seven years younger than Art. That didn't matter. Ralph was perfect. He's calm and enigmatic, has a beard and just a trace of an accent (he's Russian). He's witty and very, very smart, softspoken, unpretentious, a little eccentric. He was everything Art admired in a man: He was a gentleman. And he obviously liked Art or why would he sign him?
This is how it happened: In June of '78, I had brought Art back from the Oregon tour during which he'd suffered some kind of a physical "episode." He was aphasic. He was confused, frightened, resentful, incredibly lethargic. I put him in the V.A. Hospital. I was working as a temp, and during weekends and evenings I was doing all the interviews I used in STRAIGHT LIFE-which had been bought by Macmillan. I visited Art every day. I brought him his clarinet but he wouldn't even try to play it. It was at this time that I first heard from Fantasy. Their main office was and is in Berkeley, but at that time they had a small L.A. office, and they employed a fellow named Bob Kirstein. Bob called me in the middle of this and asked if Art would be interested in signing with Galaxy, Fantasy's jazz label. I'd never heard of them. I told Bob the truth. I said that Art was hospitalized and didn't even know his own name. I didn't know whether he'd get better or how much better he'd get or whether he'd ever play again. A C.A.T. scan had turned up some brain damage, but they weren't sure of the nature of it.
Bob was very laid back. "Well," he said, "just please keep in touch with us and let us know how he's doing; we'd really like to sign him." A week later Bob called again. How is he? A week later, ditto. I mean, these people wouldn't leave us alone. And Art slowly got better. In July Art and I went to see Bob in Fantasy's L.A. office. Art was still kind of out of it, but we'd carefully discussed the terms of the contract before we went, mostly standard stuff. We'd been warned Ralph Kaffel would have to approve everything. We sat down, and I told Bob what we wanted. He listened. When I finished Art spoke up for the first time. He said, "And a non-recoupable bonus of $10,000 for signing." I nearly fell off my chair.
I like to think I kept a straight face. Bob nodded. That night he called us and said that Ralph had agreed. In August we flew up to Berkeley. Art said they wanted to make sure that he could walk and talk. We chatted with Ralph who took us on a tour of the studios. He informed us that Ed Michel, working freelance under Orrin Keepnews, head of A&R, would be Art's producer. I objected.
During the summer of 1959, when I was in my teens, I worked at an L.A. coffee house called The Ash Grove. I sold records in a shop in the club. Ed Michel was the house rhythm section. He played the bass for the folkies who didn't bring their own bands. Ed was dating one of the waitresses, and he and I became good pals. When he wasn't working we'd spend hours talking and philosophizing. He was wise and old. I think he was 21. I went off to college and Ed went to work for Pacific Jazz and then for Verve in L.A. He worked for an American based company in Europe. So Ed and I never saw each