Part 2 of a transcript of the presentation given by Sonny Morris at the Ken Colyer Trust Easter Parade, 2000

Previously published in the Ken Colyer Trust Newsletter Summer 2001

Travelling about the Country, we had lots of fun. I remember we were sitting on the steps of a pub in Nottingham one Sunday afternoon - just after the pubs had closed, unfortunately. There was a trolley bus parked across the road. I don't know if you know what a trolley bus is; they used to have these big arms attached to the wires above them. Another trolley bus came along and overtook it. Can you imagine? You can't? You don't realise what I'm saying; you can't overtake a trolley bus in another trolley bus! That day the sparks flew!

My father had a car; John R T Davis had a car; so we started to use two vehicles to drive to and from the gigs. On one of these occasions we were coming back from up north and got as far as St Albans, where my Dad's car ran out of petrol. We always carried a spare can and filled up from the can into the car. We spilled some petrol and it went down the drain. Just before we left, Ben thought, "Ah!". So he lit a match and threw it down the drain. I think that's the first nuclear explosion ever. Just a bit of fun.

One of the things we did...and there again I think we were the first.... in fact I'm positive we were the first.... we were invited to play at the Alexandra Palace. It was the home of the BBC Television. We televised on a programme called Picture Page, which was introduced by Jean Peters and Leslie Mitchell. On the programme was an archaeologist, Mortimer Wheeler, then we came on and I'm positive that we must have been the first jazz band ever to appear on British television. That's one of the little snippets of history.

We also used to play at the Hammersmith Palais, a thing called Jump on the Band Wagon. They had a Monday night jazz night and we used to go on once a week opposite a band called Lou Praeger; it was a revolving stage, which was another first. Talking about the phrase "on the wagon" to do with people who don't drink or who have stopped drinking - I don't know if you know where it came from. The version I have is that it started in New Orleans: in those days the bands used to advertise their venues by playing on a wagon. Obviously most musicians like a drink, and occasionally one would fall off if he'd had too much to drink. So, if you were in the bar and someone said, "would you like drink?", you'd say, "No, I'm on the wagon". You daren't drink too much. That's good, isn't it...very depressing! It's true! That's my story anyway, and anybody will tell you, I never lie. I never lie!

We carried on wandering about London and the provinces, and met someone called Pete Payne, who ran a recording company called Delta Records. He was very much involved with Mike Daniels, and recorded him. We went over to Catford and we went down to this cellar, and that's where I first met Bill Brunskill and we played; Bill Brunskill was playing guitar then. (Talking of guitars: I don't know if any of you realise that Ken was left-handed, and he played the guitar left-handed, but he played the trumpet right-handed. It doesn't sound very important, but it's a very difficult thing to play the trumpet with the wrong hand. I've tried it, and I know it doesn't work, but Ken was very capable of doing it. Just a silly little thing to talk about, but it just came). Anyway, eventually we played for Pete Payne and we recorded a number called Moose March and I think we'll play it for you now.

Musical interlude.

I must mention now that I'm not a musician; I don't know the music theory; I don't know chords or anything, so I relied very much on the chord sound of the banjo, and that's where Ben was very, very helpful to me. If I could hear the chords played, I could play something that was needed because, with Ken playing the lead all the time, I had to try and make up some sort of a second trumpet part. So I need a strong sound of the chords. Ken was always the lead trumpet player, obviously. Then one day we made a recording and Ken said to me, "You take the lead". This is my first ever recording of me leading a band:

Musical interlude

I like to think there's a little bit of an influence of Bunk Johnson there in my playing. While we were playing at Cranford, Ray Orpwood used to come along and listen to us; he said he played trombone so he used to sit-in. Eventually he became part of the Band, and it was Ray Orpwood playing trombone on that particular record (Dusty Rag - Ed), and the rest of the personnel were Monty, me, Pat Hawes, Ben Marshall, and Julian Davies. We had no drummer. We went many, many months without drummers; we managed quite well, actually.

One thing that Ken did: If you remember, Keith Christie was a fine trombone player, a lovely trombone player who in those days was a player in the Kid Ory style. Ken and Keith got together with Keith's brother, Ian, George Hopkinson, and Mickey Ashman (I think you've heard of Mickey Ashman!) and they formed a recording Band called the Christie Brothers Stompers. They made quite a few records - I think about 6 or 8 sides, I'm not sure - but anyway that became a regular thing for them to do and this was in 1951 (I'm rushing a bit now because time is going on, and I'm sure you want to go and hear John Wurr and his lovely Band).

We were invited to play at the National Jazz Federation's jazz concert at the Festival Hall; which was the celebration of the Festival of Britain (we were celebrating "winning the war".... can you believe that?). Anyway, we played there in front of Her Royal Highness, Princess Elizabeth. The programme was recorded, and one of the tunes that we played was issued; it was a tune called I'm Travellin'. The thing I'd like you to note here is that Ken was only 23, and the authority which he displayed on this recording - I think - is just outstanding. I'm Travellin':

Musical Interlude

That was basically the last job The Cranes played, I think. We might have played a couple after that, but then Ben, Ken, and Pat Hawes left the Band and formed The Christie Brothers Stompers.

Eventually, I was running a Band at the Grey Horse in Kingston and, round about our 25th anniversary of The Cranes, Ben Marshall decided it would be a good idea if we had a reunion. He phoned everybody and all were quite happy to do it. Without any real publicity, the turnout was amazing. They were queuing-up right down the street to get into this pub (The Grey Horse - Ed) with the whole of the Original Crane River Jazzband (except for Ron Bowden; unfortunately Ron didn't make it - he was otherwise engaged in those days). We had a wonderful night with the reunion. Then Monty - ever the entrepreneur - decided we could do well with this, so he started arranging gigs for us around the Country. With Monty's contacts in Germany, he arranged for us to go to Germany at a big concert in Hamburg, with a promoter called Karsen Jenker. We played in this massive, massive hall - I think there were 3,000 people in there. It was a programme of mainly British bands: Humphrey Lyttelton, Chris Barber, Dutch Swing College. We went on, and you cannot believe the reception we got. The programme was recorded and this - the last track I'm going to play - was one of the tunes we recorded; it will give you some idea of the excitement that we all felt on that night: I Can't Escape from You.

Musical Interlude.

No doubt you noticed that, on that recording, there was a drummer: Colin Bowden! John R T played trombone and alto saxophone (not at the same time, of course)

I'd just like to tell you a funny little story concerning Ken and a lovely boy called Ray Holland. Ray was a wonderful bass player, for those of you who don't know. He had a wonderful sense of humour, and he was a collector. He collected 78 rpm recordings of British bands, and the other thing Ray collected was mutes. He didn't buy these mutes...he stole them! If a trumpet player left a mute hangin' about, Ray took it. Now, Ray and Ken were good mates, and occasionally Ken would visit Ray. One day Ken was at Ray's house and Ken saw this array of mutes. He looked at Ray and said, " I used to have a mute just like that!"

When I first said I'd do this little talk, I thought I wouldn't find enough things to say and I wouldn't be able to say them. So I set up a little programme with some records, then played the records, which took 45 minutes, which left me no time to talk so I had to cut out quite a lot of the music that I would have liked to have played for you. There actually is far more to talk about than I ever thought at the time. Anyway, thank you for your kind attention. There are lots of things I could have spoken about, but I was amazed how quickly the time has gone. I would have liked to tell you some other little stories but...

"What about next year, Sonny?" From the audience....

We'll see, yeah, 'cos The Cranes did go on after 1973, as you know until Ken became ill and that was the end of that, really. We carried on after Ken died but, obviously, it wasn't successful. Well, it was successful in a way, but it wasn't the kind of success we wanted. And so Ben and I decided that we wouldn't have any more to do with it, and we formed another Band, and you'll hear most of it tonight. We did get together occasionally after that. As you know, we were here last Easter celebrating our 50th Anniversary but, unfortunately, poor old Monty wasn't with us, because he's been very ill. I spoke to him last night - he phoned me last night (no, it wasn't last night, it was the night before.... I was here last night), and Monty is making good progress. I asked him if he was going to play again, and he said, "I don't know." But, hopefully, he will play again, and we'll see him and, if he does, then you may possibly see The Crane River Jazzband reunited.

Anyway, once again thank you very much for paying attention to me, because it was probably a load of rubbish, and if there is anything you'd like to ask me, please do so. But if you don't want to ask me anything.... please yourselves! Thank you very much.

Transcribed by Mac Robinson, April 2001 from a recording made and loaned by Crazy Ken. Mac apologises for any errors or inaccuracies in the transcription

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