Interview by Brad Balfour
Photo by Giulio Graziani

When I grew up in Cincinnati Bob Dorough was one of those underground figures that one keeps close to chest lest others find out. If they do he loses that sense of cool you feel when he's your own obscure discovery. Knowing his work, makes you more discerning and on top of it. Then years later I found was responsible for the music for the ABC animated series, Schoolhouse Rock. discovered on mornings when I was conscious enough to appreciate the music.

So I wasn't sure what to expect when I saw Dorough live at Deanna's East Village jazz club celebrating Too Much CofSee Man. He has this "smooth Southern lilt mixed with gruff' voice that cried out "jazz" and made you think--this guy is hip. He embraced the piano and ambled through standards and his own tunes. It was a classic performancenuanced and seductive.

When I found out, he was Irish in a world not typically filled with those of the Celtic persuasion, I thought it would be great to hear about his jazz excursion. With his broad smile and genteel ways, Dorough never was the hard-charging musician one expects in order to have survive 50 years of playing jazz. From all night jam sessions to road tours, Dorough did his time. Now he occasionally emerges from his eastern Pennsylvania haven to do gigs such as this one I witnessed and promote a new album for his label Blue Note. His latest, a lighthearted and energetic collboration with fellow pianist David Frishberg, Who's On First, is a live recording documenting his exchange with a fellow veteran of the international jazz scene.Years ago the two had worked together; now 36 years later they've joined forces again in a merging of standards and their own compositions.

Last spring, Blue Note presented the release of Too Much CofSee Man at his Deanna's stint (107 Rivington St.; 212-420-2258). It was a good album--eccentric enough and yet accessible--a hilarious follow-up to his much acclaimed 1997 Blue Note debut, Right On My Way Home. This buoyant 76-year-old has been described as "one ofjazz's true individuals." While best known for composing, playing, singing, arranging and conducting the Schoolhouse Rock.music, his lengthy career has also crossed paths with such diverse personalities as Sugar Ray Robinson, Blossom Dearie, Miles Davis, Alien Ginsberg and Art Garfunkel.

Most importantly, Dorough has lived through it all enough to now sustains traditions that cry out to be heard in world awash.

How did your style evolve?

I was inspired by Nat King Cole, Joe Mooney's quartet and the singing of Louis Armstrong. It was mostly the singing musicians that got to me more than a Ella Fitzgerald or a Sarah Vaughan. My style evolved in the '50s when I was recording singles and had the freedom to try new songs. I think I learned more about delivering the words.

How you evolved adds perspective to the performance.

Mostly I was just trying to make a living. I had a job with Sugar Ray Robinson [the boxer was trying to be a singer] which turned out to be a wonderful thing because I was thrown in with Count Basie and Louis Hines; I got into studio scenes doing quite a bit of production. The studio work sort of led me on a path to Schoolhouse Rock--the biggest job of my life. I saw it as a great opportunity to communicate with young people. I was supposed to make a phonograph record of a multiplication table. They tested it at the Bank Street College of Education where teachers learn to teach, and they declared it to be instructive, teachable and viable. They weren't getting a good deal on making a phonograph record so they decided to animate it. It sold to ABC Television as a program. Suddenly it became my job to meet these deadlines and we got other people involved and developed more things. I brought in several jazz people; Blossom Dearie, Jack Sheldon, and more. We were in production from 1973-1985 and this revival has been really great for me--especially financially.

How did you get started?

It took me quite a while. I grew up with a simple kind of music. My uncle would sit on the porch at my grandpa's house and play guitar and sing cowboy and folk songs. At rather a late age, I discoveredjazz in Plainview, Texas playing in the high school band. My friend said "let's start a jazz band." We tried to play some arrangements and stock orchestrations and that became interesting to me. I discovered that the clarinet was not the right instrument for me although that's what I played in the band. I was in an army band at college and got a lot of experience on saxophone, clarinet, vocals, arrangements and piano playing. I played piano by ear, picking out the melody and had some lessons but nothing thrilled me as much as joining the high school band and discovering the magic of ensemble playing. That is what made me want to become a musician.

When did you get into swing and know the difference say, between a Paul Whiteman and Fletcher Henderson ?

At first I heard popular radio, which in the '40s was mostlyjazz with Harry James, Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, etc. When I got into the army, I was drafted into the band, and one day one of my hipper friends asked me if had ever heard of Count Basie, or Lester Young. I had heard Nat King Cole because I was interested in vocals. We went to the Sweets Ballroom in Oakland, CA where I heard Jimmy Lundsford And later Count Basie and that was incredible. I began collecting records that were more hardcore jazzcombo stuff besides the big bands. That was the beginning for me--I was already 22.

When did you first play with someone you admired?

Well, I played with my buddies mostly. In the summer of'49 Ijumped on a Greyhound bus to New York looking for adventure and higher learning. I saw a band with Miles Davis and Charlie Parker--the 52nd street scene was just beginning to attenuate and I went to some of those clubs like Birdland and Bop City. From the years '50 to '52, I conductedjam sessions in my own pad, a cheap little apartment at 333 E.75th where the warning was, "you gotta come early because we quit at 10 p.m." We'd start playing at six or seven. The second warning was "there's no elevator and no phone," and they would have to climb three flights of stairs with drums or bass fiddles or whatever. We'd play three or four times a week and I got tapped into the Detroit gang through Pepper Adams who was one of our blowing pals and if someone new would come from Detroit, he would bring them. All the Jones Brothers were there, except Hank. Then I had another set of friends from Philly like the tenor Ziggy Vance. I wish I knew what happened to him.

When did you start singing professionally?

In those jam sessions of the bebop era I though it would have been corny to sing but in my secret heart, late at night playing softly, I would sing and play. At college in North Texas I had a lot of singers who asked me to coach them. In trying to make a living in New York City they would ask me to sing while I played the piano and I was asked to play things like "Up the Lazy River", or "Honeysuckle Rose." "Route 66" was a big one in my repertoire. I was inspired by King Pleasure and Blossom Dearie doing "Mood for Love"--also Eddie Jefferson. Annie Ross was a real inspiration for recording vocals. I took ajob with Sugar Ray as his musical director. I used to hang out at Henry Latang's tap dance studios. He taught nearly everyone and he was famous for choreographing the Cotton Club. One day he said to go down to the big studio and I walked in and it was full of black people and one of them was mopping his brow-they'd just finished a routine--and Henry said, "Bob Dorough, this is Sugar Ray Robinson". He asked me to play a tune for him and I played "Green Eyes." When it was over Sugar Ray said, "You're going on the road with us!" And I said okay, because when a big tough man like Sugar Ray says you're going on the road, it's more a command. I needed the gig and stayed two years. We traveled all over the Continent and I met a lot of musicians and held on to the job because he said we were going to France. But we didn't do well in France. Sugar Ray decided to return to the U.S. and told me we were leaving after the weekend. He was coming back to go into the ring and "knock the hell out of Rocky Marciano"--which was ill advised in the long run. I had beenjamming at the Mars Club so I decided to stay. The Club was owned by an American and I worked there every night for six months. You could do very well in 1954. That was where I had all the freedom I wanted to sing and play and try out new tunes, and experiment with composition and song writing. I met Maya Angelou and the cast of Porgy and Bess and worked with Maya.

Besides New York, were there other US cities you worked in?

When I got back from Paris I was homesick for the good American drummers over there. There was a jazz club on the Left Bank--the Blue Note-but I couldn't go because I worked every night in the Right Bank. I was ready to rock and roll after three months of singing every night and I recorded "Devil May Care" at Bethlehem. At that session I did "Yardbird Suite" for Charlie Parker who had died in '55, two months after I came home. I made up a story of Charlie Parker which was a long labor of love I thought would make me really big but it didn't. I lived in Chicago, jamming with Ira Sullivan and met all kinds of wonderful Chicago musicians. I just saw Ira this past weekend and we were reminiscing about those days. When I returned to New York nothing was happening so I went to Los Angeles where I did a recording on the Mode Label but was never released. But I stayed and had a nice little career in LA playing both as a singing pianist and leading or co-leading a jazz quintet.

Did you experience any reverse prejudice?

Scotty, my bunkmate in the first army band, was black. He was a really nice guy who made me feel that the music is great; musicians have an understanding and know that there is no such thing as a color line. We all dig the music. Some bands were all black, some all white and some were mixed, thanks to people like Benny Goodman and Woody Herman. It just doesn't make any difference.

Something in your nature allows you to get along with difficult characters like the hipsters--the Lenny Bruces and Lord Buckleys of this world.

I'm a soft, very adaptable guy quick to pick up on the feelings of the other party. So I was able to work with Lenny, Lord Buckley [a beatnik comedian] and Sugar Ray who was not an easy guy either. I worked with Lord Buckley who was a trip. It didn't matter who was playing in the bar when he showed up. He would bring in his retinue, act very lordly and take over, "Play me some blues, Prince."

Where do your lyrics come from?

In the due course of just writing a song.

How much do you improvise lyrics and music?

Well, if I forget the lyrics I do what Louis Armstrong did when he forgot the lyrics--just 'seat'.

Does it frustrate you that you don't have the mellifluous voice of a singer like Nat King Cole?

No. At one time I was talked into being in a musical comedy by composer Tommy Wolfe in St. Louis at the Crystal Palace. I was scared to death and didn't want to do it but he talked me into taking it. I went to a vocal coach who studied my voice and gave me some strengthening exercises to help project my voice more.

Do you see yourself as a cult figure like Mose Allison?

Well, Mose is highly successful and keeps working but I don't have the same organization he has. But because of Schoolhouse Rock. I get all sorts of compliments like, "we love you," "you saved my life, I could not have gone through school without you." My favorite song from the show is "3 is a Magic Number" because it was the first one I did and it brought me in.

Did you ever work with Sesame Street?

No but you'd think I would be a natural. Tell them to call me, maybe we can work something out. (laughs)

You excel on keyboards. Where did you get your style?

Well, thank you very much for the compliment, but I don't think I'm that great a pianist. The woods are so full of incredible virtuosi. I guess I got my style from Bud Powell. I liked his style of bebopping and that's pretty much what I emulate. I love Errol Gardner. Art Tatum almost made me give up, he is so staggering! Nat King Cole was wonderful, playing a lifestyle for his vocals.

It's unusual to be in jazz and have an Irish background

Well, yes. Actually I was never even aware of it. I must admit when I was younger I wished I were black or Italian or almost anything because I was so dull looking. Of course then I heard of Dylan Thomas and what a great race the Irish were so I'm happy to be Irish. In fact, I thought I was Scotch because of my name and my father also thought Dorough was Scotch. My niece is quite a genealogist so she found out I was Irish. I have never been to Ireland but my wife and I really want to go. I will learn what county I am from before we go there. I'd like to get a gig there before I go.

Have you stepped back and looked at what you were doing?

Yes. Of course I've did some gigs I didn't want to do but all in all I have enjoyed everything. In the '60s rock and roll was in so there were not too many good opportunities for jazz. I had my child with my new wife. I was scrambling because I wasn't getting jazz work. I scored big with ajingle and we moved to the country in the Poconos. My daughter is now the principal flutist in the Houston Symphony and now I'm a grandpa. I gave her piano lessons because she had terrific long fingers but one day she announced that she was going to play the flute.

You're in fabulous shape for someone who is 76. Jazz is not exactly considered the healthiest lifestyle. How did you avoid all the foibles?

I'm really only 56. (laughs) Well, I had a great deal of respect for my own body and never wanted to get into heroin although I hung out with a lot of junkies and watched some of them go down. I have a very easygoing personality and try not to regret if I don't get the success I want. I'm an optimist, try not to hold grudges and not get angry. I'm still drinking although most of my buddies have had to give it up. I have always done it moderately.

Obviously you are still working and doing an amazing job. How much do you work?

Not enough, but enough to get by. I lead a comfortable life at home and wouldn't want to be too busy. Sometimes I get in a hiatus when I don't write or even practice that much and then when I have a gig coming I take tunes out that I haven't sung in 20 years and revamp them. I don't rely only on my own songs. I have always had a great love for the 'standards' repertoire. I probably could have written a Broadway show if I had been in the right place.

Have you worked with everyone you want to work with?

If I am in a position to I hire people I enjoy working with. I tell them I had to hire them just to see them! I hired Bill Woods and Joe Lovano. I'm a great Chieftains fan. I was real jealous when they had guest singers and didn't invite me. I hope they do if they ever record another one with guest singers. I once billed myself as the "World's Greatest Living Room Entertainer." Performance is my passion.

Did your parents ever say "When are you going to get a real job?"

They are greatest. They wanted me to do what I wanted to do.

How many wives have you had?

Three. They were with me all the way. My first one is gone now but she came with me to New York. My second, mother of my daughter, died of cancer and my third wants to go to Ireland with me.

You have this gig with Blue Note. Does it affect your style?

Well, yes, but it's partly the budget. I made a quintet for Bethlehem Records and a quartet for the Focus and Innercity labels and then made a duo (and I paid for that myself) of "I'm Beginning to see the Light" with the late great Bill Tagus. When Blue Note called me up I thought it was great. Still it was a quartet. I love Too Much CofSee Man but I went cheap and used Pocono guys; Bill Woods is my neighbor and we used a Pennsylvania Studio, Red Rock. The song "Too Much Coffee Man" was written for a comic book project where the producer wanted to make a 30-second pilot but it did not succeed in being sold. Finally when Blue Note picked up my option I called him up and told him I wanted to make a full-length song of it.

Do you have a home studio?

No, I am not deep into electronics but I can record in the neighborhood bar or studio. I would like to record with Tim Reese, who plays the gig here with me. I would like to record with Lena Home. How about me and Bob Dylan? We'll do the blues. I'll improvise and he'll emote.

You had a pretty good career. What else do you want to do?

I like the idea of writing songs for a movie. I'm working on an autobiographical show. Everyone writes a book, but I'd need help to do that, and if there's a movie I might need a guy to play me at the age of 23.

You have led a pretty normal life for a jazz musician.

Well, I think I am a pretty levelheaded guy. In my younger days I thought I could go crazy and do something foolish but it's much better to be free and hear the birds singing in the morning.