Bill McCloskey

Since the I'm Coming Virginia conversation was so informative, I'd like to start a thread on some other classic jazz tunes, in this case Basin Street Blues. I have a number of versions in my collection: The Armstrong Hot 5 (or is it 7) recording, which must be the first time a celeste was used in a jazz tune, two versions by Bobby Hackett, Keith Jarrett, and of course the great reworking by Miles Davis on Seven Steps to Heaven. I'd like to kick this off by discussing my thoughts on the Miles Davis version, which was probably the first version I remember hearing. And it makes me think that a lot of the problems people had with Miles in the 60's and 70's (and 80's) was not so much that he went off, became more experimental, electronic, or whatever, but that we lost one of the finest interpreters of classic jazz we ever had. When Miles stopped reinterpreting the past through his beautiful and unique sensibility, it was almost like someone died. Listen to his approach to Basin Street: the space he puts around the notes, the sense of solitude, the character of the solos and the way he handles the melody and rhythm. I try and stay out of the conversations that start with something like: Jazz is like a shark. It has to keep moving forward or it dies, when in reality what they are saying is that jazz needs to get further and further away from jazz. The lie to that argument is encapsulated in Miles take on Basin Street Blues, a tune that goes back to the very roots of Jazz, but approached in such a stylistically unique vision to make it timeless and breathlessly beautiful. Jazz could use more of this type of examination of the past.

I wonder if the musicians on the forum feel that they have a different experience of jazz than those who are primarily listeners and enthusiasts. For me, as a musician, there is a physical aspect to playing music that certainly changes the way I appreciate and listen to music. For instance, I've found my appreciation and understanding of someone like Bird is different once I've tried to play their solos myself. For one thing, I can physically slow the solo down, alter the rhythm and the inflection to gain more indepth understanding of what is being played than if I just listened to it. Also understanding the degree of difficulty by having to do it myself I think can only be truely understood by walking in the musicians shoes, so to speak. I also think this type of knowledge may be limited to the type of instrument you play. I don't play piano, and while I certainly appreciate piano players, I don't feel that I have a real understanding of what makes one pianist different than another: that is not to say I can't appreciate Wynton Kelly, vs Monk, vs some other unique stylist. And I certainly appreciate and like certain keyboard players better than others. But someone like Tommy Flannagan. Do I really appreciate the way he plays over someone like Earl Gardner the way a pianist would? I'm not sure I do. Guitarists and horn players are different, since I play those instruments. I have a much more intuitive understanding of a players differences and my true appreciation for them as artists really begins when I try and play their solos or in their style. Plus there is something about doing the same thing with your fingers that they are doing with their fingers to make you understand just how special (and better) they are than you, and other players. I'm also, naturally, drawn to horn players over other instrumentalists, who hold less interest for me. I'm not sure I've expressed properly what I'm trying to say, but I'll leave it there for other, wiser people's opinion.

My interest in playing jazz cornet has finally drawn me to one of the major pillars of jazz cornet playing: Bix Beiderbecke. After downloading the Bix and Tram 4 cd set, I can finally understand what all the fuss is about. I find that listening to this particular set, with the excellent sound quality, has been an transcendent experience. One of the most impressive aspects of listening to this music, and the thing that for me highlights Bix's genius, is to listen to a tune like I'm Coming Virginia and comparing the way the Bix/Tram sessions treat it versus other versions in my collection which include Fletcher Henderson, Bill Davison, Bunny Berigan, and jazz mandolinist Don Steirnberg. All of these artists do a great job (particularly Steirnberg) but nothing is like Bix. For me, it is something unworldly, and I can finally grok why there are memorial societies and yearly concerts dedicated to Bix. I didn't get it before because my exposure was mainly rather poor releases of his work with the Paul Whiteman orchestra. Another tune I can't get out of my head is Blue River, which has a rather embarrassing vocalist, but Bix rises above it all to create an artist expression that is purely sublime.