Eddie Palmieri and Me...
The Bronx was great, because at the time, the Bronx was beautiful. I was about five or six years old, moving from 112th Street between Madison and Park. My father and my grandmother, my mother and my grandmother, all formed a luncheonette called El Mambo. I named it. I was in charge of the jukebox. I talked to the jukebox man and told him what I wanted to hear. At 14 or 15, I was a soda jerk, sometimes just a plain old jerk, you know what I mean? Selling cigarettes at three for five cents. The Hydrox, the ones that look like Oreos, they were a penny each. It was a wonderful, wonderful youth that I spent.
Eddie Palmieri
La Perfecta (1962) signed by Eddie
I never liked jazz, because I didn’t comprehend it. I was just dedicated to the Latin dance music from the big three: Machito, Tito Puente and Tito Rodriguez. Little by little, especially when I made La Perfecta, especially in 1964, (trombonist) Barry Rogers told me, we were playing in the Palladium next to the Birdland, “Eddie, I want you to hear something. He took me on a Sunday to Birdland, (to see) the original John Coltrane Quartet, with Jimmy Garrison, McCoy Tyner, Mr. Coltrane and Elvin Jones. It was empty, the place, unfortunately, but, fortunately for me, I saw one of the greatest shows I ever saw. McCoy Tyner took a solo, and that solo went between 15 to 20 minutes, and it just kept swelling and swelling and swelling, and he became immediately my mentor. I already had Art Tatum, naturally Bill Evans, my favorite when it comes to his form of playing.
Eddie Palmieri
Viva Palmieri (1961) signed by Eddie
My kid brother, Eddie Palmieri, is a nut. While playing piano with the Tito Rodriguez band, Eddie decided to leave the financial security of one of the most successful Latin bands around and formed his own band. The band business is rough enough, but Eddie made it even rougher for himself by going against the tide, and instead of organizing a Charanga, the popular sound of the day, he organized what I call a "Trombanga", a band featuring trombones and flute. Novel? Yes. A fresh sound? Yes. Commercial possibilities? A very big gamble. His gamble paid off though because his band La Perfecta is one of the busiest working bands in New York City...
Charlie Palmieri liner notes to Eddie's first album La Perfecta 1962
Echando Pa’Lante (1964) signed by Eddie
You could only record at 2:45 (length of time), so when I signed finally with Roulette, I met the one who made it possible, the gentlemen called Teddy Reig. He was the manager of the Count Basie Band, so they knew about jazz and how long they play and all that. I told him, 'Listen, this number is very popular in the street, in the Palladium, for the last year-and-a-half. It’s called ‘Azucar Pa’ Ti,’ and it’s not going to be no 2:45.' He said, “Eddie, just record it.” It came up to eight minutes, thirty seconds, and it became a classic. It’s in the Library of Congress, an honor.
Eddie Palmieri on his composition "Azucar Pa' Ti", added to the National Recordings Registry in 2009
Azucar Pa’ Ti (1965) signed by Eddie
Oh, it was received absolutely wonderfully by The Weathermen, and the CIA and FBI came to talk to Morris Levy (Roulette Records owner). The Weathermen were anti-government, and everybody in the group had my record. I couldn’t leave the country, I had to leave the planet. That’s the honest truth. Morris Levy – remember he had a tapestry behind his desk, on which it was written, “Oh Lord, bring me a bastard with talent” – told me, 'Mr. Palmieri, I don’t need the CIA and the FBI to come to see me for something that I didn’t do. Is that clear, Mr. Palmieri?' I said, 'Clear as a bell, boss.'
Eddie Palmieri on his unlikely fan support for Harlem River Drive (1971)
Harlem River Drive (1971) signed by Eddie
Harlem, New York 1963. photo by Leonard Freed, basis for HRD album cover
Born in Spanish Harlem of Puerto Rican descent and raised in the South Bronx, Eddie Palmieri has won nine Grammys in an acclaimed career spanning more than six decades. Studying classical piano at age eight, Eddie switched to timbales, but gave them up at the prescient suggestion of his mother. He remembered, "Oh, carrying the timbales, I figured I was going to get a hernia. My mother, who wanted me to stay on the piano, bought me a case that weighed more than two or three timbales in the metal case, and every time I would pick it up, she would say, “Eduardo, don’t you see how beautiful your brother (Charlie) looks when he goes to work? He doesn’t have to carry an instrument. When will you learn, Eduardo?” I’m picking up the box of timbales because my uncle is honking the horn. 'Come on, Eddie, let’s go!' And I’m telling her, 'I’m learning, ma. I’m learning.' Two years later, I made a deal with my uncle and he couldn’t refuse it. I went back to the piano. But it was my mother who put us on the piano." Yes, Mrs. Palmieri was a remarkable woman who worked tirelessly as a seamstress and at other jobs to provide for her sons, Charlie and Eddie, who would both play professionally as pianists and band leaders. In tribute many years later, Eddie recognized, "The reason I became a musician was because of my mother, it was solely based on her. She was the stimuli. She worked extremely hard before and after the Depression to make sure we had the best teachers and facilities to practice daily. As for becoming famous, that never crossed my mind. My only interest was to become a student of music, which I am still working on."
Mozambique (1965) signed by Eddie
Charlie Palmieri, nine years older, was a massive influence on Eddie as he readily acknowledged, "I would try to imitate my brother, who was a genius – his attack on the piano. I was aware of percussion, you know, rhythmical patter because I wanted to play timbales. That helped me. Then I just kept studying and studying, and then eventually, I met Mr. Bob Bianco, who took me into the world of harmonic structures of jazz." Eddie would study with Bianco for more than twenty-five years, honing his skills and mastering his craft. Always self deprecating, Eddie would unfailingly defer to his brother Charlie, "He was the pianist, I am the piano player."
El Sonido Nuevo (1966) signed by Eddie
After playing piano with Tito Rodriguez's Orchestra in the 1950s, Eddie formed Conjunto La Perfecta in 1962. With this band, Eddie introduced a novel "Trombanga" approach, replacing trumpets and strings with trombones and flute while playing the popular Charanga rhythms of the day. With this instrumentation, Eddie's band had a distinctive growlier and grittier sound, and the 'bone-centric style was influential to Latin music masters and band leaders Willie Colon and Manny Uquendo in their later recordings. For his part, Eddie offered a simpler reason, "If you didn’t excite the people in the Palladium, the dancers, you were never brought back. There’s your answer. We had to go in there and go right through them like a Mack truck, and we did. La Perfecta, wherever we played, we blew them away. We had no choice. It was a different sound. It was known as the “Sound of the Royal Elephants” in the Catskills."
Champagne (1968) signed by Eddie
As fearsome as the sounds of his collective ensemble was, Eddie's piano was equally formidable. As Eddie explained, "I’m a drummer at heart, I love the percussion. That’s what makes you move, it’s the pulse of life. (Jazz saxophonist Donald Harrison), always tells me, ‘You know Eddie, you solo like a drummer.’ But that’s natural, because no matter how you want to play it, the piano is a percussion instrument, (it is) hammers on strings."
The Sum Of Latin Music (1974) signed by Eddie
I saw Eddie recently at the Blue Note in New York City with his Latin Jazz Sextet, they were promoting Subiduria, his most recent recording. He opened with "Life", a plaintive, rueful ballad written for his wife, who "heard it as she was on her dying bed, and she liked it." The duet with bassist Luques Curtis was part homage, part elegy and was punctuated by Eddie's anguished cries, which heightened the pathos of this ruminative and emotional piece. Thankfully, a jaunty and celebratory "La Luz Mayor" followed and then, Cal Tjader's "Samba do Suenho", a beautiful groover with a pulsating alto saxophone solo by (current Stephen Colbert band member) Louis Forche. All the while, Eddie applied discordant Monk infused flourishes and Nicky Marrero and Little Johnny Rivero supplied percussive accents on timbales and conga. "Picadillo", a burner from the book of Tito Puente, featured the trap drumming of Craig Haynes who, amid the swirling rhythms and deep percussive beats, was dropping bombs like a MF. Yes, he truly was.
Vamonos Pa’l Monte (1971) signed by Eddie
Next, came Craig's dad's turn, the irrepressible, unstoppable ninety-two years young jazz drummer extraordinaire Roy Haynes. There aren't many still performing today who have played with Charlie Parker, Charles Mingus, Thelonious Monk, and countless others. Indeed, Roy Haynes may be the last man standing. It is not by coincidence that Roy's band ten years ago was called "The Fountain of Youth", Roy's still got it. Eddie warmly welcomed Roy to the stage, "You know, I'm so nervous that I may grow my hair. This artist means so much to me. You know, when I heard "In Poco Loco" by Bud Powell in 1949, it changed my life. I was three, alright, I was thirteen but it changed my life and Roy Haynes was playing drums. It is a thrill to welcome Roy to the stage to play with me." Roy began the exquisite Palmieri composition "Resemblance" with a gorgeous mallet solo on drums, before Eddie and bassist Luques Curtis joined in and completed an amazing night of music.
Eddie’s Concerto (1976)signed by Eddie
After the show, I went upstairs to the dressing rooms to visit with Eddie and get some vinyl signed. I chatted with Luques Curtis briefly and thanked him for his impeccable bass work, the chemistry and telepathy with Eddie was akin to a Vulcan mind meld. Luques smiled, "Thanks, Eddie is the man. I love playing with him." Luques noticed my vinyl. "Hey, if you're looking for Eddie, he's not here. He's at the restaurant next door. Wherever he plays, whatever town he's in, he's never in his dressing room. Just look for the closest restaurant before and after the show, that's where he is. This is not a well kept secret." I thanked Luques for the inside information and bounded down the stairs to catch my quarry at the Japanese restaurant. Next door.
Superimposition (1970) signed by Eddie
Sure enough, Eddie was holding court in a back booth with assorted family, friends, well wishers and... me. After waiting five or ten minutes, I seized my opportunity when a seat vacated, and I slid in next to him. He saw the albums and he flashed a big grin. I handed him The Sum Of Latin Music. "What's the date?" he said brightly. 'Nah Eddie, don't worry about that,' I said as he inscribed "8.1.17" on the album. ‘Actually, today is 7.31', I told him. Eddie laughed, "That's alright, I'm giving you a nice head start on tomorrow." Next came Superimposition, possibly my favorite EP album. I asked him about some of the curious song titles, "Chocolate Ice Cream"? "Well, who doesn't like chocolate ice cream?" True, how about the significance of "17.1"? "Well, we were smoking reefer, and we just laid down a great track. I looked at my rhythm section and they were nineteen, eighteen and fifteen, all young cats. So we smoked some more reefer, and we divided their ages and came up with 17.1. Of course, we found out later that the right number was 17.3, or whatever, but it was already titled "17.1", so I said, what the hell?!" Reefer or not, it is a great track with a great title. When I showed Eddie Viva Palmieri, a wonderful record by his brother Charlie, Eddie was moved. “You know my brother was everything to me. He’s the reason I’m here with you today. I’m just a piano player, but he was a pianist.” I thanked Eddie again for his kindness and, especially his music.
Eddie Palmieri, as much fun off stage as on, so much more than just a piano player. As he said in a recent interview, "I don't guess I'm going to excite you with my music and my band - I know it." Anyone who has ever seen him, knows this too.
Recorded Live At Sing Sing (1972) signed by Eddie
Recorded Live At Sing Sing Vol. 2 (1972 recordings, 1974 release) signed by Eddie
Eddie Palmieri at the Blue Note, NYC 7.31.17
Special Guest with Eddie Palmieri 7.31.17
”He found the mallets!” Sittin’ in with Roy Haynes 7.31.17
Choice Eddie Palmieri Cuts (per BK's request)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fScAoA6mgVw
"17.1" Superimposition 1970
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdJdrSxqo6o
"Chocolate Ice Cream" Eddie Palmieri and Orchestra Live
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4LlF0RH63Y
"Azucar Pa Ti" Azucar Pa Ti 1965
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yquE9vKQeFE
"Mi Guajira" La Perfecta 1962
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVlZr3-_mDY
"Pa' Heule" Superimposition 1970
Well, just listen to it. It had a great double meaning: 'Give me a taste, a taste / Give me a little piece to sniff.' They were taking that, “Pa’ Huele,” like it would be cocaine. They were taking it every which way. - Eddie Palmieri
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARCWjHkERwU
"Conmigo" La Perfecta 1962
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHfCzfwkAAg
"Picadillo" Eddie & Cal Tjader El Sonido Nuevo 1966
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsLjZwxgdac
"Life" written for Eddie's wife Sabiduria 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vf0JKB9iXeQ
"Vamonos Pal Monte" Eddie and Charlie jamming, Ismael Quintana singing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nEJccV0PSR0
"Resemblance" Bamboleate Eddie & Cal Tjader 1967