The undeniable Martin Denny

By Wayne Harada
Advertiser Entertainment Writer

Martin Denny plays a few tunes on the piano in his apartment in Hawai'i Kai. He'll be in concert this Saturday. Rebecca Breyer • The Honolulu Advertiser

As his fans, who range from twentysomethings through Baby Boomers and on to the Greatest Generation from the World War II era, prepare to pay tribute to him with a Saturday concert at the Hawaii Theatre, he's taking the adoration in stride.

He's stoked about his lingering fame and the renewed recognition he gets from younger audiences, who have discovered "lounge music" — better known now as exotica — created during Denny's first brush with success in the 1950s up to the 1970s.

"For the past two years, there has been a real resurgence among the younger people, and of course I'm elated," said Denny, petting his poodle, Tita, in his apartment crammed with instruments, artifacts and photos of his late wife, June. "After all, I'm a dinosaur."

True, perhaps — but this dino created a hypnotic international sound that still charms listeners with its quixotic, exotic elements, fusing bird calls with croaking frogs and often blending jazzy rhythms and instruments with the Eastern-inspired harmony of koto, chimes and gongs.

"You know, I'm happy the music's back, because I'm frankly tired of hearing the same old thing. Rap music. High-voltage rock 'n' roll," he scoffed. "What will kids today remember 20 years from now? There's hardly anything romantic or melodic. I think a whole lot of good music has been lost."

If all goes well, Denny will perform Saturday at the Hawai'i Theatre in an updated tribute to his contributions and a nostalgic journey through his past.

Martin Denny, center, with his group — from left, Julius Wechter, Harvey Ragsdale, Augie Colón and Frank Kim — at the Waikiki Shell in the 1950s. Advertiser library photo

With the theme of "Primitiva," a title of one of Denny's early successes, Don Tiki is giving Denny an opportunity to revel in the sass and sultriness of exotic music all over again. And yes, "Quiet Village" will be among the jewels in play.

"The song was purely accidental," Denny said about the unplanned hit. "I was opening the Shell Bar at the old Hawaiian Village (now the Hilton Hawaiian Village) and we played the song and inserted bird calls.

"There was a pond of water near the band, and whenever we played the selection, bufos were croaking, 'Ribbet, ribbet, ribbet.' When I stopped playing, they stopped croaking. It was a coincidence. When we started up again, adding the bird calls, the croaking would resume. Cracked me up.

"Later on, somebody asked me, 'Can you do an arrangement of the song with the bird calls?' I called a rehearsal and I told Augie Col—n to put in some calls in the first four measures and gave instructions to Arthur Lyman and John Kramer. I imitated the frog with a guiro, a grooved cylinder, rubbing a coin on it, which made it sound like a frog. And that was the birth of 'Quiet Village.' " The song became a Billboard hit in 1959.

Martin Denny played at the Canlis piano bar in the 1970s. He'd done a fill-in gig there in the 1950s, when the restaurant first opened and he was a recent arrival in Hawai'i. Advertiser library photo

"The music is a fusion of South Pacific, Hawai'i, the Orient, with a bit of Latin American, American jazz, and yes, even classical music," said Denny of his hybrid concoction of cool and kitsch. "Because of the international components, the music now is played all over the world."

His daughter Christina, who is Denny's caregiver, rattles off spots where exotic music is hot stuff: Europe, South Africa, Thailand, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Britain, Australia, New Zealand.

Christina shares the pride: "Daddy created a sound," she crowed. To date, Denny has recorded 38 albums, with more to come.

The Hawai'i Kai resident wrestles with a weak heart and diabetes, sugar- and salt-free diets and relies on a walker at home and a wheelchair for outings. Last year, doctors told him he had a year to live. But a recent check indicated his heart was holding up — bolstered, perhaps, by his continuing artistic activity.

Though frail, Denny's mind is sharp, his memories vivid.

"My first job paid $5, when I was about 15, playing at an Irish wake," he said, remembering his New York origins. "I made rounds of booking agents, and one asked me if I could play piano, and I did, and I was expecting $5 for a stag party gig for Borden Milk Co. employees. Well the cops raided the hootchie-kootchie joint, and I never got my five bucks."

Reach Wayne Harada at wharada@honoluluadvertiser.com, 525-8067 or fax 525-8055.