Gifted Typist

I’m not normally one to make a hero out of someone, but if I ever had a hero, this guy would be it.

He died 25 April at 86. And somehow I missed his passing. I must have been busy that week and didn’t tune into BBC Radio 4 as I normally do. But when I clicked on this morning and noticed the tribute to Humphrey Lyttelton, my heart sank. A tribute to a man of his age could only me one thing.

Here is his obit.

Simply put, “The Humph” was a modern-day Renaissance Man. He was a jazz trumpeter, a broadcaster, journalist, Radiohead collaborator, a ranconteur, ornithologist, cartoonist, calligrapher, a wit and a very charming English gentleman. And he was an exceptional talent in each of these realms, although music was his first love.

Here is the link to the BBC tribute. (It’s hosted by Stephen Fry and well worth a listen if you have the time.)

I first became acquainted with him when I moved to Britain in 1996. He was the host of a very funny “antidote to panel games” I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue on BBC Radio 4.

Over on BBC Radio 2, he was the host of Best of Jazz where I learned just about everything I know about jazz, and was introduced to another “hero” of mine, Billie Holiday. His commentary was erudite, witty, eccentric and wide-ranging, and that show was my Monday night treat.

When I moved back to Canada in 2002, I was desperately homesick for Britain. One of the first things I did was set up my Internet streaming so that I could hear him each week. Sometimes, when listening to his jazz show and typing late into the night, I actually forgot I was in Canada. He managed to soothe my homesickness and make it worse at the same time.

He was a brilliant jazz musician in the British New Orleans tradition, and his friend Louis Armstrong described him as “that cat in England who swings his ass off.” True words, Louis. Humph could swing.

My good bloggie friend the Bad Tempered Zombie may know that in 2001 Humphrey Lyttleton recorded a session with Indie rockers Radiohead after guitarist Jonny Greenwood wrote to him saying:

It’s probably an awful cheek and we’re sure you’re very busy, but we’re a bit stuck.

Radiohead. Stuck. Imagine. The piece is called Living in a Glass House on the Amnesiac album.

His humour on the panel show was legendary for its wit and supposed unintended innuendo which was of course intended, but The Humph managed to set it up so that you, the audience, picked up on his raunchy double entendre. He was rude in the most charming and gentlemanly of ways.

Interestingly he was born into an aristocratic bloodline. He was brought up and educated as a member of the upper middle class, but early on in his life he rejected that lifestyle and became a socialist and jazz musician. He turned down an offer of a knighthood from the Queen.

The Humph was still playing, broadcasting and hosting his panel show at age 86. Earlier this year he did a round-the-country tour with his band. At the end of his show he played a stirring version of “We’ll Meet Again” - you know, Vera Lynn and all that - on his trumpet. This brought an audience of 3500 to their feet where they remained for ten minutes.

A few days after that concert, he went in for surgery to repair an aortic aneurysm in his heart. He died from complications.

Many of my bloggie friends wax rhapsodically over their fave music and musicians.

Barbara the Bad Tempered Zombie has her Radiohead

Beth has her REM.

BeckEye has Eddie Vedder.

Well, I guess GT has her Humphrey Lyttelton. And if any one of you gals lost Eddie Vedder, Michael Stipe or Thom York, you’d know how I feel right now.

RIP Humph.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 18th, 2008 at 2:11 pm and is filed under Uncategorized, culture. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.