|
Jimmy Scott albums:
All the Way /
Mood Indigo /
Lost and Found /
The Source /
The Fabulous Songs of Jimmy Scott /
Someone to Watch Over Me
* *
* * *
The Maryland Film Festival recently offered
several new “independent” films for viewing. Among these
films was a documentary of the life and musical career of Jimmy
Scott called If You Only Knew. Little known and under appreciated, Scott has
always been one of those geniuses who seemed to streak across
the jazz heavens and then disappear. In many ways, If
You Only Knew reminds the viewer of the film biography of
Charles Mingus. The difference is that The
Triumph of the Underdog is a more cerebral and moody
presentation than If You
Only Knew.
Still both documentaries reveal each artist
with a compassion that places flesh upon the skeletal framework
of these legends. If You
Only Knew goes much further than Triumph
in ensuring that Scott’s buoyant personality and humanity come
through on the screen. And, in the end, these qualities make
If You Only Knew a more interesting encounter than the
Mingus film.
Jimmy Scott, sometimes called Little Jimmy
Scott, is one of the rarest of the rare living jazz legends. He
possesses a voice that, for me, is the most honest of his
generation. And there is simply no one alive who comes close to
his sophistication in performance or his sensitivity when it
comes to delivering a song. Scott has a mesmerizing quality that
holds his audience hopeless at his mercy, whether in the largest
of concert halls or the more intimate setting of a club. He is
as good at producing this effect today as he was when he first
sang with Lionel Hampton so many decades ago.
What is incredible about the film If You Only Knew is that it captures more of the magic of Jimmy
Scott than one would ever think possible. Every scene is placed
exactly where it should be–neither revealing too early or too
late the pertinent facts of Jimmy’s life. Never does the
camera get between the eye of the observer and the subject of
observation. Scott is always there, literally and visually, in
focus for the viewer.
It is his words and best of all his music
that drive this film. Of course, there are other voices in the
film. But these voices are muted, restrained tones like the
string section of the orchestra that is sometimes heard behind
Jimmy Scott’s wonderful singing. These voices only enhance all
the beautiful lyrics and majestic visions--the truthful portrait
of Scott that the filmmakers wish to make known to the world.
Those who know anything about Jimmy Scott and
jazz would think him to be the last person to be chosen as the
subject of a film documentary. In fact, many people thought that
Scott died long ago. The foremost reason for believing in
Scott’s early demise is that Scott’s commercial career is
spotty at best. Discovered by Lionel Hampton in the ‘50’s,
rediscovered by Ray Charles a decade or so later, a
twenty-five-year gap in recording, all made the demise of Scott
seem plausible. It literally took divine assistance to get
Scott’s career back on track. But to understand what I mean by
this, you need to know something about Scott’s life.
Jimmy (James Victor) Scott was born on July
17, 1925 in Cleveland, Ohio, as one of ten siblings. His father
was rarely there. Jimmy credits his mother as being the strength
of the family. It was by her wit and skill that the Scott family
survived the Depression. Smiling, Jimmy describes his mother as
“stern but affectionate.” We are presented with several
pictures of Jimmy’s mother during the film. She appears to
have been a better than average looking black woman. And when
Jimmy sings In My Mother’s Eyes as we are given these portraits of Mrs. Scott,
we can feel how extremely close their relationship must have
been.
Jimmy seems to have been a typical black
youngster. He was described by his brothers and sisters as a
“talker not a fighter” with at least some already apparent
leadership and survival skills. An older sister in the
documentary describes Jimmy as a “little hustler” who
scoured the neighborhood for bottles to assist his mother in
making a living for the family. But, as Jimmy approached
adolescence, two events would take place that would forever
change his life. The first was the revelation that he was
afflicted with Kallaman’s Syndrome, a hereditary hormonal
deficiency that prevents those who possess it from experiencing
puberty. The second tragedy was the death of Jimmy’s mother in
a car accident.
There is a very poignant scene in the
documentary that sums up for the viewer what Jimmy’s mother
meant to him. He is standing at her gravesite and leans over to
wipe the headstone with one of his thin hands. One can still
see, even after all these years, the desire on Jimmy’s part to
make a connection with his mother. He could, if allowed, wipe
away all the years that have divided him from his loved one. Of
course, the gesture can not bring Jimmy’s mother back. And one
can only wonder if the two events--Jimmy’s lack of puberty
which gave him his signature voice and his mother’s
death--conspired to make Jimmy the artist we know today. The
first tragedy may have given him the means to sing.
The second tragedy may have provided him with his
“why” to sing.
The filmmakers are mute on this subject. But
they do their best to document the many disappointments, major
and minor, that Jimmy Scott endured throughout his life. Wherever
the filmmakers take us, we are always given a vision of Jimmy
without the personal, sometimes, even sexual love that a man
needs to survive in the world. Still, even without such love,
Jimmy never comes off as the subject of his own self-pity. If
anything, the reverse is true.
Jimmy seems to be more content with himself
than most of us with our own lives. His smile beams forth on the
screen reinforced by an almost mystical knowledge that his soul
is greater, stronger, more enduring than any obstacle put in his
path. How the filmmakers manage to capture so much of Jimmy’s
humanity is their secret. But the evidence that they possess
this secret is clearly revealed in every frame of the
documentary.
After the death of his mother, Jimmy and his
siblings seemed to have been left to their on. And within a
short time, Jimmy found himself separated from his sisters and
brothers who were placed in various homes. It was this forced
separation that spawned in Scott a lifelong desire to reunite
all his family members. Singing, Scott tells us in the film, was
the only way he knew how to achieve his goal.
One day Jimmy, who had secured himself a job
working with black entertainers, is given a chance to perform
before an audience. Most probably, this was the first crowd to
enjoy Jimmy’s vocal gifts in a professional setting. It is
obvious from the history that follows that Jimmy’s true male
soprano voice, a result of Kallaman’s Syndrome, and his
showmanship were a success with the crowd.
For shortly afterwards, Jimmy found himself a
soloist in Lionel Hampton’s famous big band in 1948 and
records his first hit Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool. Despite this success, Jimmy soon
grew tired of being in the Lionel Hampton Band. “The one thing
you knew when you were in that band,” Jimmy said of his days
performing with Hampton in the documentary, “is that it was
all about Hampton.” This comment may have more to do with
Jimmy’s desire to develop his own talent than any real fault
possessed by Hampton.
After leaving Hampton, Scott played for a
short time with the Paul Gayten Band and then in 1950 embarked
on a solo career. Jimmy recorded for the Roost label that year.
But he soon left the Roost label to record with Decca. Then, not
finding his situation at Decca to his liking, Jimmy returned to
Roost. Jimmy’s main reason for returning to Roost was that he
liked working with producer Fred Mendelsohn. It seemed that the
two men shared the same musical sensibilities. Admiring
Mendelsohn, that when the producer left for Savoy in 1955, Jimmy
went along to the new label with him.
History will no doubt record Jimmy’s move
to the Savoy label as the third great tragedy of his life. For
it is at Savoy Records that Jimmy meets up with the notorious
Herb Lubinsky. It would be Lubinsky who would prove to be the
greatest stumbling block in Jimmy’s seemingly ill-fated
career.
In 1962, Jimmy Scott recorded an album on Ray
Charles’ Tangerine label, Falling
in Love Is Wonderful, which was reputed to be a masterpiece.
However, the album was withdrawn from the market when Herb
Lubinsky claimed that Jimmy Scott was still under contract to
him. If Charles wanted the Scott album released, he would have
to negotiate with Lubinsky. No doubt, Ray Charles had no
intention of having anything to do with a leech like Lubinsky
and so he wisely abandoned the project. Seven years later, Scott
recorded another album on the Atlantic label. Once again, the
album was said to be a wonderful display of Scott’s talent.
And, once again, Lubinsky stepped in to ruin the deal for Jimmy.
In 1970, Jimmy all but abandoned his musical career rather than
do Lubinsky’s bidding.
Scott’s career remained in stasis until
1984. It was when one of his ex-wives (some say ex-girlfriend)
called into jazz flag station WBEG to refute the rumor that
Jimmy Scott was dead that Jimmy’s career was given new life.
WBEG set up an interview with Scott and the jazz world realized
that Scott was alive. Eventually, Scott was to meet Doc Pomus, a
famous producer/songwriter/singer. And, it would be Pomus’ who
would eventually get Scott’s talent recognized by a new
generation of record makers.
For years Pomus worked to get Jimmy Scott’s
talent recognized by his friends in the music business. But it
was only at his funeral (1992) that Pomus’ friends took note
of Jimmy. Hearing Scott sing for the first time, Pomus’
friends could not help but be impressed by his talent. Among
Pomus’ friends assembled at his funeral was Seymour Stein a
producer for Warner Brothers. Stein signed Scott to a contract.
A year later Jimmy recorded All
the Way, finally receiving the critical and popular acclaim
that a genius of his stature deserved.
If You
Only Knew takes its audience through every twist and turn in
Scott’s musical life. But the film shows Scott not only as an
“unrecognized” but also as an “unrecognized” human
being. We have said that Kallaman’s Syndrome retarded
Jimmy’s physical development leaving him without the
experience of puberty. As such, Jimmy’s sexual identity was
often questioned by those around him. Scott had to endure
suggestions that he was “a woman in a man’s suit.” There
were rumors that Jimmy was a homosexual.
Yet Jimmy never thought of himself as
anything but a man. Indeed, Jimmy was married some four times
though none of the marriages ever worked out. It is this subtext
of rejection or near rejection on the most personal, as well as
the racial and artistic level, that gives the documentary its
added depth. The viewer is given to ask himself if he could walk
in Jimmy Scott’s diminutive shoes (he’s 4 feet 11 inches)
what path would he have chosen for himself? Could he or she
possess the strength of this man given all the odds set against
him?
It is the answers that the film gives to all these
questions that make If You
Only Knew the best jazz documentary out there. The film
would have been a success had it merely let us know that Scott
was still alive and kicking. But this documentary goes way
beyond achieving this goal.
If You Only Knew gives us a portrait of a human soul that
refuses to be contained by time or convention. The film shares
with us a living, breathing Jimmy Scott who amazes us with not
only his talent, but also, even more so, with the brightness of
his humanity.
* *
* * *
Jimmy Scott albums:
All the Way /
Mood Indigo /
Lost and Found /
The Source /
The Fabulous Songs of Jimmy Scott /
Someone to Watch Over Me
* *
* * *
update 17 June 2008 |
