Lionel Hampton by Gary Burton (for Subscribers)

Wow Gary... one thing is sure : no one alive on this planet could write biographies of the greatests like you... Jeez...

I love that story of your first meeting with him at 13! That must have been an incredible moment!

And that story with the five huge vibists on stage at the same time in the pooring rain! Sure the sound must have been special, but still, what a pitty there are no recording of that historical moment! Not even pics, really?

I like the way you speak about the masters... not forgetting their dark sides, because they are/were Gods on stage for all of us, but we should not forget they are/were humans in real life.

Reading about Hamp's strange marriage, I wonder if it was not after all just the fine balance for both of them. It seems that he didn't have much his feet on the ground in ordaniry, material life, and Gladys was there, in her special way. Even if she was very tough with people around her (jeez!), and taking benefit of Hamp's fame, she seemed to be sort of "keeping him on his feet" in real life. But all this also allowed him to be the king on stage, where he found his reason of living, incredible love for life, like the giant kid he was (if I may say)! :o)

You are absolutely right about Hamp and France. I love to talk about the vibraphone around me here, but so few people know it (appart from vibes fans). And when they happen not to make the confusion with the xylophone, very few know any name of players... but if by luck one remembers one and only name, you can be sure it's Hamp...

Again thank you Gary... Oh man, how could I write again any other little bio, or just put links about any player after all you have written about so many giants... This is too much humbling... :o)

Thank you so much.

MN

Thanks for the great biography, Gary. These stories are definitely treasure troves of precious information.

If I may be so bold, I'd like to add a few little things that I've read in Hamp's autobiography. Regarding the origin of calling people "Gates", it appears that that actually came from Louis Armstrong. While Hamp was working (on drums) at Frank Sebastian's Cotton Club in L.A. as a member of the house band, Louis was to play there and his manager decided to leave Louis' band in New York and just use the L.A. Cotton Club's house band as Louis' backup band. According to Hamp:

"Louis fell in love with us. At first, he was kind of disgruntled about not having his own band with him, especially his drummer, Frank Barbarin. But it didn't take him long to realize we could back him just as well as his own band. He liked the way I could play drums, and the way I could play the bells when he wanted that kind of sound, and the way I knew all his solos. He said to me, "You swings so good, I'ma call you Gates," and from that day since I have been proud to carry that nickname. Some of my friends still call me by that name."

Regarding his absent-mindedness:

"Benny [Goodman] let Gladys come along [on tour] becaouse he wanted her to keep an eye on me, because I was a wild man. Plus, I sometimes had trouble keeping the schedule straight. This one joke has been told on me so many times that I might just as well tell it on myself. One time Gladys wasn't with us. I don't remember why. I showed up for a gig in Indianapolis only to find that I was supposed to be in MINNeapolis!"

Another bit of interesting info is that according to Hamp, he did in fact grow up without a father. But he does say that while on tour with Benny Goodman in 1939 that there was a boy named Johnny Lyttle (who, coincidentally, later became a vibes player) who would hang out at the bandstand wherever they played that asked Hamp why he never visited his father in Dayton. Charles Edward Hampton was in a VA hospital after having been exposed to mustard gas in France. He'd come home from the war blind. Hamp couldn't believe it was true, but when he went to visit says he was sure that it was his father because "he looked just like me, and I looked just like him". He also asked about Hamp's mother. Hamp and Gladys had apparently made plans to be bring his father to New York after the tour with Benny, but he died before the tour ended.

Anyway, I'm not even half way through the book yet... but there certainly are some interesting tidbits in there.

Thanks again, Gary.

What a tremendous tribute you have written to Hamp! Thank you so much.

In an odd way, I am very glad to hear your part of the story about him not remembering you... he never remembered me... I always kinda just assumed it was because I was forgettable or something. If he was also forgetting you, then it was him and not me, and I was in great company in that way. You, sir, are NOT forgettable, especially to another vibist.

After the fire that destroyed his NY apartment, he had several gigs in or around Philly for which he needed vibes. His people knew me from a concert I had played as part of the opening act for him prior to that, so they would call me. I was always glad to bring mine in exchange for front row seats and a chance to be around him a bit. On one occasion (at a private affair in Trenton) he invited me up to play and I even got my ass kicked by him musically, which was great fun. To my way of thinking, there is no shame in admitting I traded choruses with Hamp and he totally dominated me.

The last night I saw him was the dedication of the Clef Club. He was very ill at that point; he literally came there from the hospital. We really thought he would not play. He was in a wheelchair and not responsive at all... until the MC hosting the ceremony said his name. He head popped up off his chest, he stood up out of the wheelchair and shuffled his way to the stage. We were all quite surprised that he wanted to play, but I wheeled my vibes out and away he went... for 30 or so choruses of How High the Moon. Much like you described, Gary, very tenous at first, but then as the energy moved him he just wouldn't stop. When he was done, we thought he would want to get off the stage, but as soon as we moved towards him, he started playing Flyin Home and went a good 10 minutes on that as well. After he was done, he waved to the audience as they gave him a standing ovation, then shuffled off the stage, sat down in his wheelchair and his head slumped back down on his chest.

Mr. Hampton, may you rest in peace. Thank you for blessing my vibes.

Thank you Gary for writing such a beautiful piece about the master.

Peace
randy

As a young vibes student in the 60s and 70s I paid Hamp little attention. He was the symbol of the past and in my mind forgettable. I was taught a good lesson when I saw him live for the first time around 1979 in Boston. Decked out in a tux and blazing red vest he worked the crowd into a frenzy. Even I, the snooty 4 mallet student, was swept up by his performance. He gave me a big surprise when in mid-set he launched into Coltrane's "Moments Notice"! This is not a simple riff based tune, as you know. He played it straight - focusing on the vibes completely, all showmanship put away for the moment. He must have known there were skeptics in the audience and he wanted to give us something to remember. He took 2 or 3 choruses and played great. He was so pleased with himself he played the tune again in the next set!
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Gary, thank you for that Hamp's story, I was hooked to it.
Your writing is so fine-tuning between history, anecdotes and objective look at the vibes, that it is a pleasure to read your posts !
Lionel Hampton was famous for playing in the hotel "meridien" in Paris...and by the end of his life, he had several hear attacks between his sets...

Man! I was almost a little emotional by the end of the story. It was that good.

Thanks GB!