Slim & Slam and the Flat Foot Floogie

Today, it is my privilege to tell you about Slim Gaillard–a remarkable human being whose incredible life story kind of sounds made up.

Slim Gaillard was a jazz musician, boogie woogie pioneer, WWII bomber pilot, and the inventor of his very own language. He was also a virtuosic pianist, guitarist, vibraphonist, and tenor saxophonist, which is basically the musical equivalent of being a four-letter varsity athlete. He was also wildly funny, and infused his sense of humor effortlessly into his utterly unique vocal improvisations and multi-instrumental performances.

And we’ll get to all that. But first..

The Real Slim Baby

Gaillard’s origin story is shrouded in uncertainty. Various documents give his birth name as Wilson, Bulee or Bueler. Early accounts claim he came from Detroit. Slim is on record as saying he was born in Cuba. However, historians believe he was most likely raised in a town called Burnt Corn, Alabama.

Slim was most likely born in 1911 to an Afro-Cuban mother and a German-Jewish father. It is believed that his father was both a businessman and the steward of a ship. So it was that Slim accompanied his father on a voyage around the world in 1923.

Lost Sailor

Slim’s father was a successful merchant. He was less successful as a parent. At 12 years old, Slim was left behind on the island of Crete. He never saw his family again.

Slim survived by working aboard the many ships that passed through the island. His work took him to Syria, Beirut and other points abroad. Already fluent in Spanish and German, he also picked up practical bits of Greek and Arabic.

At 15, he boarded a transatlantic ship hoping to be reunited with family in Cuba. Instead, the ship made port in Detroit, where Slim began life anew.

Motor City Moonlighting

Speaking no English, and too young for employment in Detroit’s newly booming auto industry, Slim landed a job and a home with an Armenian family. He worked in the family’s general store and, as was his tendency, absorbed bits and pieces of their language as well.

He also found work briefly as an aspiring boxer and, during Prohibition, as the driver of a hearse loaded with contraband whiskey. All the while, he attended music classes at night. He proved just as versatile with instruments as with languages. He taught himself piano and guitar while mastering a type of vocal improvisation that bears some comparison to Cab Calloway.

One night, the legendary Duke Ellington played a show in Detroit. Slim went backstage to meet his hero, and soon after departed for the bright lights of New York City in search of a music career. He found it in a partnership with Leroy Eliot "Slam" Stewart. Slim paired up with the gifted bassist and singer in 1936.

Slim & Slam

As Slim & Slam, they created an ultra-hip scat-powered style of boogie woogie that immediately won them an audience. Signing to Vocalion in 1938, they debuted with what would become their signature hit. "Flat Foot Floogie (with a Floy Floy)" proved one of the year’s biggest hits and inspired tons of cover versions (though none equal the flamboyance of the original).

That same year, they also minted a bit of future history with their original recording–”Tutti Frutti”.

It goes without saying that Little Richard did something quite different with this song 20 years hence, but this was the seedling.

You can hear, in these early tunes, the unique nonsensical vocalese that was Slim’s trademark. The multilingual singer often performed in his own constructed language, which he would later call Vout-o-Reenee or McVouty.

Over the next few years, the frenetic duo enjoyed success on radio and the silver screen, appearing in films like Almost Married (1942) and Sweetheart of Sigma Chi (1946).

Check out their first cinematic appearance—1941’s Hellzapoppin’. (Watch the whole thing for some of the most insane, gravity-defying dancing you’ve ever seen.)

The Atomic Age

Slim & Slam’s flourishing act was temporarily disrupted by U.S. engagement in World War II.

Slim was drafted in 1941 and served in the South Pacific as a bomber for the Air Force. After receiving his discharge in 1944, Slim channeled his experience into the tongue-in-cheek “Atomic Cocktail”.

He spent the rest of the decade in the company of legends, performing alongside Count Basie, recording with Dizzy Gillespie, and opening regularly at Birdland for Charlie Parker.

(Slam Stewart compiled an equally impressive resume, doing session work throughout the ‘40s with a list that includes Lester Young, Fats Waller, Coleman Hawkins, Erroll Garner, Art Tatum, and Benny Goodman as well as Gillespie and Parker.)

The McVouty Dictionary

As we’ve noted throughout, Gaillard was uncommonly adept as a linguist. This killer tune highlights his distinct set of communication skills while even deploying a touch of Morse Code.

In 1946, Gaillard put his unique linguistic talents into practice for his very own Atomic Records. That year, he compiled and published The Slim Gaillard Vout-O-Reenee Dictionary, which was used as a promotional device for the artists signed to his label.

Vout-O-Teevee

In addition to recording prolifically, Slim continued to appear regularly as himself in a variety of films like 1954’s Go Man Go—an origin story about the Harlem Globetrotters.

By the ‘60s and ‘70s, he could also routinely be seen in guest spots on primetime TV, appearing in shows like Mission Impossible, Charlie’s Angels, and What’s Happening!!

In the early ‘80s, Slim became a fixture in the European jazz festival circuit, and eventually relocated to London permanently. He lived out his years there, never truly leaving the stage, but succumbing to cancer in 1991.

His discography, filmography, and legacy far outweigh his name recognition.

On the Road

Rather than end the story on a down note, I’ll leave you with these words from Jack Kerouac’s On the Road (1957):

One night we suddenly went mad together again; we went to see Slim Gaillard in a little Frisco nightclub…great eager crowds of young semi-intellectuals sat at his feet and listened to him on the piano, guitar and bongo drums. When he gets warmed up he takes off his undershirt and really goes. He does and says anything that comes into his head. He'll sing 'Cement Mixer, Put-ti Put-ti' and suddenly slow down the beat and brood over his bongos with fingertips barely tapping the skin as everybody leans forward breathlessly to hear; you think he'll do this for a minute or so, but he goes right on, for as long as an hour, making an imperceptible little noise with the tips of his fingernails, smaller and smaller all the time till you can't hear it any more and sounds of traffic come in the open door. Then he slowly gets up and takes the mike and says, very slowly, 'Great-orooni ... fine-ovauti ... hello-orooni ... bourbon-orooni ... all-orooni ... how are the boys in the front row making out with their girls-orooni ... orooni ... vauti ... oroonirooni ..." He keeps this up for fifteen minutes, his voice getting softer and softer till you can't hear. His great sad eyes scan the audience.

Dean stands in the back, saying, 'God! Yes!' -- and clasping his hands in prayer and sweating. 'Sal, Slim knows time, he knows time.' Slim sits down at the piano and hits two notes, two C's, then two more, then one, then two, and suddenly the big burly bass-player wakes up from a reverie and realizes Slim is playing 'C-Jam Blues' and he slugs in his big forefinger on the string and the big booming beat begins and everybody starts rocking and Slim looks just as sad as ever, and they blow jazz for half an hour, and then Slim goes mad and grabs the bongos and plays tremendous rapid Cubana beats and yells crazy things in Spanish, in Arabic, in Peruvian dialect, in Egyptian, in every language he knows, and he knows innumerable languages. Finally the set is over; each set takes two hours. Slim Gaillard goes and stands against a post, looking sadly over everybody's head as people come to talk to him. A bourbon is slipped into his hand. 'Bourbon-orooni -- thank-you-ovauti ...' Nobody knows where Slim Gaillard is. Dean once had a dream that he was having a baby and his belly was all bloated up blue as he lay on the grass of a California hospital. Under a tree, with a group of colored men, sat Slim Gaillard. Dean turned despairing eyes of a mother to him. Slim said, 'There you go-orooni.' Now Dean approached him, he approached his God; he thought Slim was God; he shuffled and bowed in front of him and asked him to join us. 'Right-orooni,' says Slim; he'll join anybody but won't guarantee to be there with you in spirit. Dean got a table, bought drinks, and sat stiffly in front of Slim. Slim dreamed over his head. Every time Slim said, 'Orooni,' Dean said 'Yes!' I sat there with these two madmen. Nothing happened. To Slim Gaillard the whole world was just one big orooni.