Louis Prima in Las Vegas

Appraising Louis Prima’s long career would take a book, maybe two. His lifework spans six decades, with changes in musical styles that mirrored public taste in the formative years of jazz and popular music. A native of New Orleans, he started out in the twenties as a hot-shot trumpet player for local Dixieland combos. He made his first recordings in the thirties, building a reputation as bandleader and songwriter, his Sing, Sing, Sing becoming a standard of the swing era. Keeping up with the times, Prima’s New Orleans Gang grew in size to accommodate a horn section and female vocalists, changing its name to the Gleeby Rhythm Orchestra. Yet leading a big band in the forties was no easy task; they were expensive to keep and required the logistic skills of a field marshal. Prima thrived where others failed.

By the late forties public taste for big bands had waned. Like dinosaurs, their ungainly weight made them unfit for survival in an age of be-bop and crooners. Prima and his wife, singer Keely Smith, were in a bind. Be-bop abstractions were anathema to Prima, whose comedic flair kept audiences in high spirits. The early fifties were tough for the couple; he was in his forties, they had a family to feed, and good gigs were scarce. He was now a bandleader without a band.

It took some pleading to get a two-week engagement as a lounge act at the Sahara Hotel in late 1954. Even by Vegas’ standards, a lounge act was low on the musical totem pole, meaning half-awake musicians playing to indifferent crowds distracted by gambling. Neither Prima nor Smith knew how to hold back as performers and expected quality musicians behind them. This posed a problem since at the time things were not gelling with the local hired musicians. But Prima still had an ace up his sleeve. Through his brother Leon, owner of New Orleans’ 100 Club, he’d met young Sam Butera, a highly-regarded sax player and arranger. Prima had promised to call if the Las Vegas gig materialized, and he did, asking Butera to assemble a band and to travel straightaway to the gambling Mecca. It was a tall order, but Butera came through.

One thing was evident from rehearsals with Butera: there was a chemistry there that was undeniable and the band, later named The Witnesses, was cooking. The first night with Butera and The Witnesses was a resounding success; Prima and Smith had hit the musical jackpot. From then on, they were the toast of the Vegas Strip, becoming the standard by which other Vegas performers were measured. Even The Rat Pack’s zany stage antics would owe a great deal to Prima.

Prima was the ultimate performer. His shows started with When You’re Smiling and ended with When The Saints Come Marching In, but in between there was no set list. He’d read the audience and anticipate their whims, so musicians had to be ready to play any song he called out. His voice has been compared to Louis Armstrong’s, but it was actually richer and more nuanced. Halfway through a song, he’d go into a wild scat and get a fast call-and-response from the band that ended in chaos. Sending up hoary chestnuts like The White Cliffs of Dover was a specialty, and even songs from his Italian heritage, like Oh Marie, would get his Gleeby rhythm treatment.

Keely Smith was the perfect foil to Prima, acting as the straight person among lunatics, sometimes glaring like a schoolmarm in charge of unruly boys. But this bob-haired beauty wasn’t there just for looks. Smith had been with Prima since she auditioned for him in 1948, and through that time had developed a rich vocal range that ran the gamut from hard swing (The Lip) to heartfelt ballads (I Wish You Love). On stage, she could be as quick-witted as Prima, and their banter kept audiences in stitches.

The artificial landscape of Las Vegas has never been known to foster musical innovation, yet the jive-and-jumping style of the group was breaking new ground. Writer Nick Tosches has called Prima an unsung hero of rock ‘n roll, and that appraisal makes sense when you hear songs like Jump, Jive, An’ Wail and Beep! Beep!. Sam Butera was a versatile musician, well-versed in New Orleans sounds, and his sax solos could be as raucous as any R&B song on the charts. When he sang a song with the group, it would be in the jump-blues style of Louis Jordan, another rock ‘n roll pioneer.

After Vegas, the group’s profile went through the roof with a whirlwind of touring and TV and movie appearances. They signed with Capitol in 1956 for a prolific recording period that featured group recordings and solo albums by Smith. The group scored several hits and won a Grammy award in 1958 with a version of That Old Black Magic.

This magical period would end with the couple’s divorce in 1961. Prima and Butera continued performing and recording, always changing the music to keep up with the times. After trying out a couple of female singers, they found Gia Maione, who became Prima’s fifth and final wife. In 1975, Prima underwent surgery to remove a brain tumor, but he never regained consciousness. He remained in a coma until his death on August 24, 1978.

Smith signed with Reprise in 1961 and continued her successful career as a solo performer. Today she speaks highly of Prima, and she still sings their Vegas classics.

The group’s best recordings are found in the Capitol and Dot years. I recommend The Wildest! (1956), their first record for Capitol, which captures the excitement of the Vegas shows. Louis Prima--Capitol Collectors Series (1991) makes a perfect overview of this period. A personal favorite is Prima & Smith Live From Las Vegas, a compilation of live recordings that remained in the vaults for decades until finally seeing the light of day in 2005.