The Jive Aces

I have often wondered how six men might get away with wearing matching lemon yellow suits, and red ties? I’m now pursuaded that, when six chaps rollick their way through a collection of swing, jive, boogie woogie and blues like the Jive Aces do, garish attire is pretty much the uniform. Because the Jive Aces carefully managed wardrobes, carefully polished schtick, and carefully arranged tunes can practically wake the dead: Mr & Mrs Hartley, aged 70+ and who, I’m told, attend the band’s gigs around the country, danced with unnatural gusto. Mr Hartley even lifted Mrs Hartley above his silver head.

Of course it helps a great deal that all six are patently talented musicians: somewhat of a showstopper, though, is Vince “the professor” Hurley on keys. Though let down a little by the tinniness of the electric piano, Hurley’s playing is eccentric in the extreme, falling out of abstract, angular frenzies right back into a solid boogie woogie with chaotic finesse. John Fordham’s tenor sax solos are perhaps a little tame, preferring melodic security rather than harmonic exploration. The dense, slightly abrasive tone he pushes from his instrument, the scooping glissandi and wide vibrato are, however, extremely exciting.

Tonight’s show swings a little harder due to the presence of three special guests. The first, as advertised, is Toni Elizabeth Prima – daughter of the King and Queen of Swing, Louis Prima and Keely Smith. (Those unfamiliar with Prima might, instead, recall the voice of King Louis in The Jungle Book – that’s him). It’s clear, from the few songs she performs, that she has learned the Vegas lounge swing style from her parents very well indeed.

There are, however, two surprise guests: the first, Antonio Sacci, trumpeter with his group The Gigolos delivers a wonderfully looping solo from the audience. The second just happens to be Toni’s mother and wife of the late Louis Prima, the aforementioned Queen of Swing Keely Smith herself. After not much coaxing, the 76-year old doesn’t quite hop onto the stage, but once there, her instincts as a performer are astounding. Keely and bandleader Ian Clarkson’s attempt to replicate the on-stage routine of Keely and Louis—in which Smith would play the straight gal to Prima’s wild antics—doesn’t quite come off; the chemistry isn’t all there. But, as Smith begins to giggle her lines just like in the black and while clips from the 50s, one can’t help but feel that the Jive Aces and guests have managed to bring to life a version of post-war swing which maintains the energy, the idiosyncrasy and, above all, the fun of a jazz form which can become mired in the intellectualism of historical reproduction.