One of the great things about owning a recording studio, even a modest acoustic jazz studio like Downtown Sound, was that a seemingly never ending stream of wonderful artists came by on a regular basis. As often as not, in the 1970s, the kind of artists who could afford the expensive uptown studios were people who were just famous, people who sold enough records to justify block booking a studio for a month at a time and as often as not, the music they made at places like that didn’t matter one bit in the big scheme of things. Most of it is forgotten today and about the only things left in its wake are the difficulties being faced by major record companies and retail outlets clinging to whatever is left of the CD buying public.

The more interesting artists often came downtown, sometimes even a legendary pianist like Jimmy Rowles. Long based in Los Angeles, Jimmy made the move to New York City in the mid-1970s and in 1976 turned up at Downtown Sound to make the first of two recordings for my producer friend, Gus Statiras. I was a big fan of Jimmy’s but had never even seen him live, let alone met him, so I made certain my schedule was clear so I could take advantage of the session. It was date for his then wife, Carol Sloane

Gus made a great record that day. It was for the Japanese market and wasn’t issued in the US for a year or two, but I had a sneak preview and then Gus slipped me a copy of the LP when samples came in from Japan. I even managed to take a few pictures during the session. I missed out on at least fifty percent of the sessions at my studio, but I made certain I got a few of Jimmy and the rest of the band. Norris Turney, George Marz, Frank Wess and Joe LaBarnara were part of the group.

A couple of months later, at Christmastime, Gus was back in the studio, but this time he had reduced his budget, only Jimmy and George were on hand. A terrific duo album was the result, also for the Japanese market. In his notes to the US release Gus wrote: Jimmy Rowles’ style is one of the most original jazz piano sounds to emerge during the Twentieth Century. In one word, it has class. His almost serpentine finger weaving playing effortlessly on the keyboard, spinning out many-a-forgotten pop song of the past with all the right changes was a sight to see and a revelation to hear, his playing reflecting that he knew all the lyrics. Just like Lester Young knew all the lyrics to the songs that Billie Holliday sang so beautifully. Just like the songs that Carol Sloane sang in October. 
Jimmy’s career had been remarkable; he’d actually worked with Billie Holiday and Lester Young in the 1940s, but spent most of that decade with big bands led by Benny Goodman, Woody Herman and Bob Crosby. There followed an exhaustive career in movie and television studios in Los Angeles, as well collaborative work with the finest jazz artists of the day. By the time he made his way to my studio, he was sixty years old and the stuff of legends.

I lost track of him when he returned to California, but he continued to record. The last CD I have in my collection is a beautiful duo recording, with bassist Eric Von Essen, entitled Lilac Time. Herbie Mann was the producer and it seems he just let Jimmy do whatever he wanted. A wise idea.

I spoke of the advantages of owning a recording studio, of which there were many, when there were artists of the stature of Jimmy Rowles who might wander in at any time of day and make a record. The business has changed and that sort of thing doesn’t happen so frequently in 2007, so there are fewer advantages today as there were thirty years ago. But some advantages have a long shelf life.

Downtown Sound was a studio for hire. It was mostly hired by people who wanted to do serious acoustic music, jazz, musical theater, classical. The studio Steinway was a good one and the sound in the big live room was terrific. One day in the mid-1970s, a legendary music publisher telephoned and booked the afternoon. He said he wanted to do a piano recording, mostly standards, presumably songs in his publishing company. On the appointed day, the piano was tuned and we were ready to go.

It turned out the pianist that day was Jimmy Rowles. It was just a three-hour session, a dozen songs, enough to make a stuffed LP. The raw two-track tape was edited and put on two ten-inch reels for the client; it was ready to go off to the mastering studio and I forgot about it. Push forward five or six years. 
It is late 1980 early 1981. I’d sold Downtown Sound, tapes were being packed up for storage, clients had been advised to pick up their tapes and I came upon the two reels of Jimmy Rowles recordings. No one had ever picked them up. It is now twenty-seven years since I closed Downtown Sound and they’re still on the shelf. Everyone associated with the date is long dead. I transferred the music to a digital format a few years ago and had a listen. They sound as fresh as they did the day Jimmy played them all those years ago. He was an exceptional artist and I’m grateful to have known him the little that I did.