West Coast East Coast No Coast. 

The Little Giant is Johnny Griffin’s monicker, perfectly suitable at that, though it would’ve been equally appropriate for trumpeter Shorty Rogers. They gave him the generic Shorty instead, this little big man from Great Bannington, Massachussets, born Milton Rajonski in 1924. Pigeonholed as “West Coast” ever since he pursued a successful career in Los Angeles.

Darn successful. Rogers, who came up in the bands of Woody Herman and Stan Kenton, recorded with the best of musicians based on the West Coast, was a prolific musical force in the movie industry, (Tarzan, The Ape Man!), accompanied singers like Eartha Kitt. At one time, believe it or not, the guy had Johnny “Guitar” Watson in his band. He was the A&R guy for RCA Victor and even made music for symphony orchestras. Some of his records were pretty nifty mixes of cool and hot, with a touch of modernism. He knew his bop and loved Count Basie.

Cool, hot, modernist? Yes, all of that. Though the bizniz men loved to put everything in the mould of West Coast Jazz, doing a pretty good job to boot, it was a label that ultimately limited the qualities of players who lived and worked there, guys like – taking as example 1955’s The Swinging Mr. Rogers – Rogers, Jimmy Giuffre (Dallas, Texas), Pete Jolly (New Haven, Connecticut), Curtis Counce (Kansas City, Missouri) and Shelly Manne (New York City, New York).

Good example. Fine album it is, Rogers’ debut on Atlantic, after a productive stint since 1952 on Capitol and RCA Victor. Atlantic bosses Ahmet and (jazz specialist) Nesuhi Ertegun no doubt realized the potential of these fellows, whatever coast they may have been on, West Coast, East Coast, No Coast… Fellows with a sun tan, though much of the time, they’d been night owls, on first row when Charlie Parker and Dexter Gordon’d been in town, prowling Central Avenue. Rogers would record three more albums on Atlantic in 1955 and 1956.

Listen to the start of this record and Rogers and Giuffre’s soft and sweeping intro of Isn’t It Romantic. Pure seduction. Two gypsies standing in front of a tent on a carnival and waving their hands, telling you to come in and boo-a-peek…

And you’re in for a nice ride. The cushion-soft Trickleydidlier, reminding of fellow West Coast-expat Gerry Mulligan’s arranging skills. The cookin’ Not Really The Blues, Johnny Mandel’s tune, which bops hard. The hip Martians Go Home with its slick variation of instrumentation. The lovely ballad Michele’s Meditation, Rogers on full-bodied trumpet, Giuffre on sweet-toned clarinet, two musicians that had developed a bond since the late 1940’s, singing a melancholic song together in call-and-response.

It undeniably is a top-notch album, Rogers playing clear and bright trumpet, Giuffre his own man on tenor and baritone, interacting with a great rhythm team, a quintet that’s versatile and swinging, in 1955, that’s 70 years ago, music that still sounds fresh as the taste of the freshest parsley.