Larry Kart

There were some players in Welk's band. Off the top of my head -- trombonist Bob Havens, trumpeters Dick Cathcart and Warren Luening, clarinetist Peanuts Hucko, bassist Buddy Clark. However, the Bobby Burgess who worked with Welk was a dancer, not the former Kenton trombone player. If it had been Kenton's Bob Burgess, I think we might have had the real-life template for Lenny Bruce's jazz-musician-meets-Welk routine ("We like animals in the band").

That was my guess, although some Internet searching suggests that the guy who posted that comment on You Tube is an utterly sincere fan, a big admirer of Patti Page and Joni James and thus unlikely to have meant what I was thinking he did. On the other hand, that flamingo thing! Also Ms. Nevins apparently was another of the female singers whom Welk unceremoniously dismissed, a la Alice Lon. The full story is not within my grasp as yet, but apparently Nevins missed (or "missed") a tour stop, and that was it.

I find her singing far more strange than her trombone imitation. Also this You Tube clip elicited a potentially ambiguous response from someone who seemed to be familiar with the band: "Natalie was always so eager. How she managed to remain so perfectly coiffed and groomed will forever be a mystery." Eager? Hmm.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgTvKk8PV1g

Carmignola and friends playing the presto from "Summer" on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_vvecNmvCg Looks and sounds like they're having a good time.

Or you could add a MacIntosh computer to the setup and call it the APPLE KART. But the whole thing then might be a bit top-heavy and ... easily upset.

"Harold in the Land of Jazz" is a special record. And don't miss its first-cousin, Elmo Hope's "The Fox."

That was 1954, Kiner's next-to-last season. He'd been acquired by the Cubs in June 1953, in a 10-player trade, which led to Pirate GM Branch Rickey's immortal line (to Kiner, a hero in Pittsburgh): ""We finished last with you; we can finish last without you." Sauer hit 41 home runs for the Cubs in '54 (a lot in that era), Kiner (I think) about 22.

I remember the year the Cubs had Sauer in left and the also near-immobile Ralph Kiner (acquired from the Pirates) in right. The unfortunate centerfielder IIRC was Frankie Baumholtz, a decent ballplayer who probably shortened his career a good deal that year. Probably no centerfielder in the history of the majors had to try to cover more ground.

Bobo Stenson sounds like the name of a Cub -- maybe a slow-footed, strikeout-prone, power-hitting outfielder, like Hank Sauer.

Sounds like you've got quite a partner there; give her my best. And thanks for taking my word that my question was an honest one.

Within the limits of what you want to say, why does your wife has 20 versions of "The Four Seasons" and why have recordings of the work been played in your presence literally hundreds of times? Is she a violinist who plays the work herself? (If so, I think I can understand.) Otherwise, though (and believe me, I think I'm only being curious from a human-nature, human-behavior point of view), I'm kind of baffled; though "The Four Seasons" certainly is a terrific work, it does IMO tend to reveal its attractions fairly readily and thoroughly. Now if you were to add that while she is not a violinist, this not the only work she has many versions of and plays quite often, again I think I can understand -- that kind of listening would fit within the range of my understanding of human experience. But ... well tell us a bit more, though again only if you want to. And, to repeat myself, I'm honestly not being snarky here, just curious.

I like "Free For All" too, for its warmth, zest, snd the pairing with Land but have two quibbles -- the stereo spread is so darn wide as to be unnatural, and at times Victor Feldman's comping is aggressive to the point of being obtrusive. Speaking of comping, on the recent Clark Terry thread I mentioned his first album as a leader, "Swahili" (EmArcy) from 1955, and said that I recalled that the rhythm section (Silver, Pettiford, and Blakey) was in exceptional form. Listened last night, and it is -- Horace's comping is so "in there" that at times you almost have to laugh. That comes to mind because I believe Feldman on "Free For All" was trying to be very Horace-like and kind of not getting it -- and I'm usually very fond of Feldman's work, especially in "Young Frankenstein."

Funny book -- had me pissing all over myself.

But have you read "Catheter in the Rye"?

Semi-forgetten by me at least, but tonight I played it again and was delighted. It's from 1956, recorded for Bethelem (and a very nice airy recording job too -- I have it on a Affinity LP reissue from the '80s , can't vouch for the sound quality of the current Lonehill packaging of this date). Rosolino is matched with bassist Wilfred Middlebrooks, Sonny Clark and Stan Levey -- all but Middlebrooks then members of the Lighthouse All-Stars. The leader is in very mellow form and makes it clear that his vaunted agility is firmly linked to a distinctive, boppish harmonic adventurousness (it would have been nice to have heard Rosolino react on the stand or in the studio to Charlie Parker and vice versa -- I imagine each of them cracking up the other). This is some of the best Sonny Clark there is, at the level of his playing on "Cool Struttin,'" and he, Levey, and Middlebrooks are really locked in. Too bad Levey would leave music behind in a few years; he had lovely hands -- such a relaxed, linear feel. An unmistakeable player, though he needed to be recorded just right. On some (but not all) of the things he did for Norman Granz in the next year or two, Levey sounds kind of tight/choked off, but I think that's because he wasn't miked properly -- I think he either used a smallish ride cymbal and/or played fairly close to its crown, a set-up that needed some extra room to vibrate. Whatever, he sounds fine here.

Haven't listened to it for a long time, but one of my favorite Terry recordings is one of his earliest as a leader - -"Swahili" (EmArcy), from 1955, with a formidable lineup: Horace Silver, Art Blakey, Oscar Pettiford, Cecil Payne, and Jimmy Cleveland. IIRC, that rhythm section kicked butt. Also, with Blakey rumbling underneath, on the title track Terry's variation on Rex Stewart's half-valve effects sounded seriously ominous.Vintage Quincy Jones charts, too -- though vintage Quincy would have have a short season IMO.

There's a soulful version of Alex North's theme song for the movie "The Long Hot Summer" on Walt Weiskopf's Album "A World Away" (Criss Cross). The vocal version from the actual soundtrack can be heard here: http://www.varesesarabande.com/details.asp...L%2D0202%2D1005 The strings and singer Jimmie (or is it Jimmy?) Rodgers may not to be the taste of many, but I think you can hear through that to the song's potent dialogue between pedal-point accompaniment and flowing (near modal?) melody. Weiskopf certainly did.

I remember being very impressed by Alex North's score for "The Far Country" and Johnny Mandel's for "Point Blank."

Fascinating article about Brian McNamee, the personal trainer who turned in Clemens and Pettitte: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/15/sports/b.../15mcnamee.html Part of the way through (and based to some extent on the photograph of him with Clemens), I said to myself, "I know this guy, or rather someone very much like him." Then I got down to the part about McNamee having sex with a near-comatose woman (so doped up on GHB, the date-rape drug, that her life was in danger) in a St. Petersburg, Fla. hotel swimming pool at 3:45 a.m. in Oct. 2001 while another naked man stood nearby in the pool, either just watching to waiting to take his turn, and everything clicked into place. (In the event, a security guard interrupted things.) Well, the guy I know (in his mid-40s), who looks so much like McNamee that he could be his brother, and is a former athlete who has a certain charm and is pleasant to be around at places like, say, a golf driving range, has revealed at odd times that his bond to his buddies is of almost supernatural importance to him (perhaps the sole positive emotional tie he has going), while correspondingly, though he finds women sexually attractive, he has never been able to sustain any relationship with a woman, in part because (or so it seems to me, based on things I've seen him do and heard him say) he basically would like to treat them like rag dolls, or worse. I'm thinking, clubhouse.

To paraphrase the late Frank O'Hara: "oh Liza Minnelli we love you get up" The original O'Hara poem: Lana Turner has collapsed! I was trotting along and suddenly it started raining and snowing and you said it was hailing but hailing hits you in the head hard so it really was snowing and raining and I was in such a hurry to meet you but the traffic was acting exactly like the sky and suddenly I see a headline LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED! there is no snow in Hollywood there is no rain in California I have been to lots of parties and acted perfectly disgraceful but I never actually collapsed oh Lana Turner we love you get up The poem was written by O'Hara on 2/09/62 on the Staten Island Ferry on the way to a contentious reading he shared with Robert Lowell at Wagner College. When at the reading O'Hara mentioned that he had just written the poem on the way over, Lowell became indignant at what he professed to regard as O'Hara's flippant approach to the solemn craft of poetry.

Lovely photos, but the story itself among other things places the Davis nonet (i.e. the Birth of the Cool band) in the 1960s.

Actually, I once demurred in print about what seemed to me to be Terry's tendency to coast/offer up strings of cliches (albeit ones that he himself had minted) -- this response based on hearing Terry's then annual visits (in the early to mid-1980s) to the Jazz Showcase. Response to the review was interesting -- Terry went on a local jazz radio show hosted by Black activist Russell Meeks, and with Meeks cheering him on, and perhaps stoking him up beforehand, Terry said at some length and with much heat that the motive behind my lying review must have been racism. The other shoe (or another shoe) dropped next year, when Terry was paired by Joe Segal with Al Cohn (in previous years IIRC Terry performed as the sole horn or with, perhaps on one occasion, Red Holloway). In any case, Cohn at that time was playing with great intensity, and with that going on beside him, Terry played with a fire and creativity that I hadn't heard from him for some time -- both in person and on record. Lord knows what Terry thought if and when he read the enthusiastic review in the paper the next day. Probably he assumed that it was written by a now-cowed racist.

Thought of saying this last night, hoped someone else would and save me the potential trouble, but because no one has: Goodspeak, Do you think that George Mitchell took the steroids/etc. gig because he saw that here was a chance to serve the Red Sox's interests by directly or indirectly doing harm to other ball clubs (the Yankees, in particular)? Or do you think it just occurred to Mitchell that he could do so after he took the gig? Or what? Yes, there is the appearance of conflict of interest, which could have/should have been avoided, but could you give me some plausible scenario for what you think actually went down here in terms of Mitchell's deeds and motives.

Munrow's version (an excerpt probably) of that Solage piece can be listened to by clicking on the link in my prior post and taking one further step. Still sounds fine to me.