Henry Mancini
The Music from Peter Gunn
(RCA, 1959)

It was 51 years ago when Mr. Mancini taught the band to play, and what they played revolutionized television music, at least for a few years. Peter Gunn was the first TV show to make music, real music, an integral part of the show. The program’s noir look, sculpted by producer Blake Edwards, was perfect for the late ’50s, when people were finally fighting off the Cold War jitters and looking for alternatives to the deadening conformity that was the hallmark of the decade. The cool jazz and unflappable James Bond-like charm of PI Peter Gunn, masterfully underplayed by Craig Stevens, gave us a new hero. Gunn was a playboy crime solver with a hip girlfriend and a cooler hangout, the smoke-filled jazz den Mother’s, where the house band included drummer Shelly Manne, sax man Plas Johnson, trumpeters Uan Rasey, Conrad Gozzo, Frank Beach, and Pete Candoli, British vibes player Victor Feldman, bass man Rolly Bundock, pianist John Williams, who went on to compose the music for Star Wars and other blockbusters, and guitarists Barney Kessel and Bob Bain.

In truth, Mancini didn’t teach the band to play, but he did hire West Coast musicians who were in the process of inventing the California cool jazz sound and gave them a bit of prime time exposure. Although jazz purists still carp about the music’s pop and rock foundation, Mancini left his players some blowing room, and exposed mainstream America to some groovy tunes.

Every show started off the same, with Bundock’s sparse bass line and Manne’s high-strung counter rhythms on his cymbals following a shadowy figure down an alley or a darkened hotel corridor. That track, “Walkin’ Bass”, leads off More Music from Peter Gunn, another album worth tracking down. After a brief jolt of violence, the crime that Gunn would solve that evening, the “Peter Gunn” theme rolled. It was a slowed down take on “Guitar Boogie Shuffle”, made ominous by muted trumpets and a wailing sax; the horns took up the bass line and the volume slowly built to a satisfying climax just before they cut to the first commercial.

The rest of the music on the show, and this album, was more laid back, reflecting the show’s ultra-hip (for the time) ambience. “Sorta Blue” is mid-tempo blues anchored by Feldman’s vibes and Bundock’s bass with brief moments of muted trumpet, sax, and trombone solos. “The Brothers Go to Mother’s” was a familiar theme on the show, another low-key excursion with a pop feel that sounds like it could have come from a Johnny Mathis song; a trombone chorus lays the foundation for the subdued sax and trumpet solos. “Dreamsville” features Williams playing Count Basie-lite on the piano, while somnambulant electric guitars and brass doze in the background. “Soft Sounds” is proto-lounge, easy listening jazz with Feldman’s vibes and Williams playing wistful piano solos. “Brief and Breezy” has the faintest hint of Latin music, and brings to mind George Shearing at his most relaxed. “A Profound Gass” is bluesy, light rock with tranquil vibes, minimal piano, and a subdued horn chorus that provides a late-night, bachelor pad feel. “Not from Dixie” closes the album with more sparkling vibes and a call-and-response between trumpet, baritone, tenor sax, and the burnished background horns.

In the wake of Gunn’s success (The Music from Peter Gunn won the first Album of the Year Grammy and went gold), there came a flood of TV shows using jazz to spice up the soundtrack, including M Squad, Mike Hammer, Richard Diamond, Private Detective, Naked City, 77 Sunset Strip, I Spy, and Mr. Lucky, also with music by Mancini. But Gunn created the template, and in retrospect, those albums, if you can find them, sound like the cheap knock-offs that they were. The Music from Peter Gunn continues to supply the soundtrack for generation after generation of martini-drinking hipsters.

Listen: “Dreamsville” [at youtube.com]