Monday Side-Session: The Blueprint for a "Love Call"

Yesterday, we listened to Duke Ellington’s haunting 1927 masterpiece, Creole Love Call. But to truly appreciate the genius of that record, we have to look at the architectural sketch that came four years earlier.

The Original: Camp Meeting Blues (1923)

On October 16, 1923, King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band—perhaps the greatest ensemble in early jazz history—recorded a tune called Camp Meeting Blues for Columbia.

Let's spin it:

The Personnel

This session featured a "Mount Rushmore" of jazz legends:

• King Oliver and a young Louis Armstrong on cornets.

• Lil Hardin on piano.

• Baby Dodds on drums.

• Jimmie Noone (or possibly Buster Bailey) on clarinet.

The Smoking Gun

The "Warehouse Dope" on this one is all about the clarinet. In the middle section, you’ll hear a soaring, bluesy clarinet solo. Does it sound familiar?

It should—it is the exact melody that Adelaide Hall would hum wordlessly on Duke’s record four years later.

The "Borrowing" Controversy

The story goes that Duke’s clarinetist, Rudy Jackson, played the tune for Duke and claimed he had written it himself. Duke, unaware of the Oliver recording, built his "Creole" atmosphere around it. When King Oliver later heard Duke’s version on the radio, he realized his "Camp Meeting" had been transformed into a "Love Call."

While Oliver eventually sued for copyright, the history books remember the two tracks as a fascinating evolution:

1. The King's Version: A New Orleans stomp, full of grit and sunshine.

2. The Duke's Version: A sophisticated ghost story, full of shadows and mystery.

It’s a reminder that in the 1920s, jazz was a living, breathing conversation—and sometimes, the best ideas were "borrowed" to create something entirely new.

The Modern Echo: Chris Barber’s Jazz Band

The 1923 original does play as more of a history lesson these days, so if it's a bit too scratchy for your ears, we have a "Hi-Fi" solution. The British Trad Jazz giant Chris Barber treated these King Oliver scores like holy scripture. In his remake, you can hear the "bones" of the song with 1950s clarity. Listen to how clarinetist Alex Revell recreates that 1923 solo—it’s the DNA of the Creole Love Call right there, plain as day.

Here's the track on Tempo Records:

It's Trad, Dad!