Last week, I had the incredible opportunity to gig with Harold Chang, last remaining musician from the original Martin Denny and Arthur Lyman bands. If you’re an exotica fan, you have definitely heard him play, though you may not know him by name; he’s uncredited on both the mono and stereo editions of Martin Denny’s EXOTICA, the album that started it all.

The opportunity to play with Uncle Harold, as we affectionately call him, arose when our regular percussionist Lopaka Colon said he couldn’t make one of our tour days. We had been hoping that Harold would come down and sit-in with us on a tune or two anyways, but the chance to play several shows with him really would take the cake.

Harold accompanied Lopaka to our rehearsal to meet the guys and check out the band. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking for me to rehearse with him present—after all, his contributions to the Denny and Lyman sound made exotica what it was. He was very enthusiastic and complimentary of our work though, even contributing some pointers to Helen on how to play the ocean drum and other percussion toys. Otherwise, he just observed, and didn’t play at all.

Two days later, we got a taste of what he’s about. Whereas other percussionists would need to be told about the characteristics of exotica, in addition to the form, groove, and feel of the tunes, Harold needed none of that. He jumped right in, both in terms of the classic exotica ’standards’ in our book (e.g. Coronation, Jungle Drums, Ruby, Similau, Mapuana, Adventures in Paradise, etc.) and our originals. Best of all… his bongo playing is killing!!!

Check out this video from one of our shows. He takes a bongo solo about 2/3 of the way through. Keep in mind that hand percussion is his “double” in comparison to drum kit. Apparently he hasn’t played a single percussion gig in at least 30 years, which is longer than nearly everyone in the band is old!!! Actually, it could be more like 50 years, given that he was in his 20s-30s when he recorded with Martin Denny and Arthur Lyman… I know there are guys in their 80s who gig, but how many of them take a gig on their double after not playing it for 30+ years?!? Only comparison I can think of is Serge Koussevitzky, who returned to playing the double bass after a long hiatus to conduct the Boston Symphony.

Last but not least… the show below was the THIRD show of that day! We had performed concerts at two high schools that morning and afternoon, which he also totally owned!! DAMN!!! More videos to be posted soon…

Also: Check out Jeff Chenault’s interview of uncle Harold, readable online here.

As a young and aspiring musician growing up in Honolulu, HI, I constantly sought out new inspiration and modes of instruction. My career as a double bassist had humble beginnings—starting by jamming with my dad as he took slack-key guitar lessons with Auntie Alice Namakelua. Although I eventually went on to study classical and jazz music in college at New England Conservatory (Boston, MA), my heart and musical intuition has never strayed far from Hawai`i.

Even as an 8 year-old, I was fascinated with Arthur Lymanʻs music

My grandfather Mun Charn Wong (known to his friends as “MC” and to me as kungkung—the Chinese phrase for ʻgrandfatherʻ) was a major influence in my development as a musician. One of my favorite sayings of his was, “You donʻt know where youʻre going unless you know where you came from.” It wasnʻt until I began WAITIKI INTERNATIONAL (and subsequently, The WAITIKI 7) that I really understood what he meant.

Kungkung MC often would treat my family and I to prime rib buffet dinners at Waialae Country Club, where he was a member. I remember to this day: the food was exquisite; the prime rib was so tender and succulent, the au jus was pretty unnecessary. I was pretty skinny back then, and at the time, I thought kungkungʻs intentions were to help me get some meat on my bones… (it certainly worked; Iʻm no longer as skinny now as I was then). I later learned that he wanted me to be inspired by his friend Arthur Lyman, a dear friend of his who performed whenever the Club held its prime rib buffet.

I donʻt remember when I first met Mr. Lyman, but by the time I was in high school and gigging as a double bassist, I knew him well enough to bring my bass down to the Club and sit in on a few tunes. I only knew a few tunes back then, but he was kind and played what I knew—”Satin Doll” was a favorite of mine at the time, and thereʻs something about the way he played the melody that Iʻll never forget (but canʻt easily describe).

His specialty at the Club was playing Hawaiian ballads. “Sea Breeze,” “He Aloha No Honolulu,” and “Yellow Bird” were done regularly. I didnʻt know much about the vibraphone back then, and had never seen anyone other than him play, and thus didnʻt realize how special his 4-mallet realization of those melodies was. What I do remember is the variety and subtlety of his bird calls; they really added to the music, and along with his 4-mallet stuff, I was easily transported out of the Waialae CC dining room and into a jungle all my own.

Unfortunately, I never saw Mr. Lyman perform with his exotica comrades, nor did I even know what exotica was at the time. It wasnʻt until college when I began learning about exotica, and shortly thereafter (while I was on the Mainland) Mr. Lyman passed away from throat cancer. I suppose this is one of those great examples of, “If only I knew then what Iʻm doing now,” because even with the richness and authenticity of work being carried out by The WAITIKI 7, there is still much to be done. The legacies of Mr. Lyman, Augie Colon (Lopakaʻs dad), Mr. Denny, and their colleagues leave us large shoes to fill indeed.

—Randy Wong