Larry Kart

If I recall correctly, "The Horn" is the book in which, at a jam session, the soloists exchange sixes instead of fours. Another vote for "The Bear Comes Home." The first time I tried, I didn't get it (the bear and all). The second time I liked it a lot.

Also, without any doubt, the two-tenor frontline of Quartet Out: Pete Gallio and Jim Sangrey. If they're still available, check out the band's "Welcome to the Party" and "Live at the Meat House."

Ron is still there.

Say hello to my son Jacob if you drop by -- he works there (and plays guitar in the rock band Crush Kill Destroy). Other musician-JRM employees at this time are cornetist Josh Berman, tenor saxophonist Keefe Jackson, drummer Frank Rosaly (they have an album coming out on Delmark toward the end of March) and singer-songwriter Steve Dawson (of the fine alt-country band Dolly Varden).

Among the musicians Kerouac mentions are Allen Eager (in "The Subterraneans" under the pseudonym "Roger Beloit"), Richie Kamuca (in the same place, K spells it "Ricci Commuca"), Shearing (in "On the Road") Getz and Warne Marsh (in "Desolation Angels"), Miles Davis (in "Mexico City Blues") and, perhaps above all and most intimately, Brew Moore (in "Desolation Angels" -- K calls him "Brue").

Not that sure where the line between "inside" and "outside" can or should be drawn (I can see that some might feel that a player like, say, Ernie Krivda never really goes "outside," while others might feel that he's never really quite "in"), but I'd add: Ab Baars Tobias Delius (both of the above are Dutch) Ernie Krivda Rich Perry Mark Shim Walt Weiskopf

Check out Argentian writer Julio Cortazar's long short story/novella "The Pursuer," about the relationship between a Charlie Parker-like saxophonist (Johnny) and a Leonard Feather-like writer/promoter (Bruno). (It is or was in his collection "Blow-Up and Other Stories" -- Antonini's film was based on a Cortazar tale.) Perhaps Cortazar's reach slightly exceeds his grasp in "The Pursuer," but his Parker figure's monologue about what he heard/felt/saw inside his head between two stops on the Paris Metro seems to me to be damn close to what might have been going on inside Bird's head at times. Jazz often crops up in Cortazar's work. Paris-based, he was definitely hip, though perhaps a bit too concerned with being hip for his own good, at least literarily. I'll bet Brownie ran across him from time to time.

Don't mean to rain on the parade, but without denying the grave injustices that led him to that position and place, shouldn't we at least mention Robeson's longtime role as a key-in-the-back Soviet spokesman? For example: "....So here one witnesses in the field of the arts -- a culture national in form, socialist in content. Here was a people quite comparable to some of the tribal folk in Asia -- quite comparable to the proud Yoruba or Basut of East and West Africa, but now their lives flowering anew within the socialist way of life twenty years matured under the guidance of Lenin and Stalin. And in this whole area of the development of national minorities -- of their elation to the Great Russians -- Stalin had played and was playing a most decisive role... But in the Soviet Union, Yakuts, Nenetses, Kirgiz, Tadzhiks -- had respect and were helped to advance with unbelievable rapidity in this socialist land. No empty promises, such as colored folk continuously hear in these United States, but deeds. For example, the transforming of the desert in Uzbekistan into blooming acres of cotton. And an old friend of mine, Mr. Golden, trained under Carver at Tuskegee, played a prominent role in cotton production. In 1949, I saw his daughter, not grown and in the university - a proud Soviet citizen.... They have sung -- sing now and will sing his praise -- in song and story. Slava -- slava -- Stalin, Glory to Stalin. Forever will his name be honored and beloved in all lands. In all spheres of modern life the influence of Stalin reaches wide and deep. From his last simply written but vastly discerning and comprehensive document, lack through the years, his contributions to the science of our world society remains invaluable. One reverently speaks of Marx, Engels, Lenin and Stalin -- the shapers of humanity’s richest present and future...." -"To You Beloved Comrade," New World Review, Vol. 21, No. 4, April, 1953, pp. 11-13.

That semi-innocent foxiness! The shot of her with Igor brought back memories of certain scenes in "Blow Up."

"Why would I want to read an essay trashing one of my favorite players?" Encounter only views I already agree with, listen only to music I already like -- hey, it's a recipe that's always worked for me.

Amplifying a bit, it seemed to me that, for one, Ed Wilkerson Jr. -- as a player, composer, and bandleader -- was everything that Murray wanted, or was pretending, to be but was not. As someone once put it: Behold -- The Clothing's New Emperor.

I hear what Jim is saying and take his account of Murray's development on faith, but I pretty much stopped listening to him some years ago because I had some of the same reactions as Jim did to the musical specifics of Murray's "Morning Song" and prior efforts and felt -- I don't know -- put off/angry/bewildered/whatever that a guy this unprepared, harmonically and rhythmically in particular, could be placed (or place himself) before the public in such a prominent manner. I know, everybody's got to begin someplace, but Murray's aura was that of a beginner pretending that he was hot shit. In turn, I smelled bull shit and/or a desire in some quarters to will a guy like Murray into being the guy Murray thought/was saying he was. I recall in particular a distastrous early '80s Murray engagment at the Jazz Showcase, with John Hicks, Ray Drummond, and Ed Blackwell. As I think I've said before here, Murray's time was so all over the place that he sounded like Charlie Ventura on roller skates. And playing "free" had nothing to do with it -- that wasn't the style that he and the group were going for, and what he was playing wouldn't have worked rhythmically in any context; no reliable sense at all in Murray's playing (at that time) of where "one" was, which left Blackwell particularly distressed. Typically perhaps, the review I wrote of the performance led to accusations that I was a racist.

Cooper's final studio album "For All We Know" (Fresh Sound) -- rec. 1990 with Lou Levy, Monty Budwig, and Ralph Penland -- is the best playing I've ever heard from him, often heartbreakingly soulful, as though he were thinking of June Christy (who died about two months before this date). Cooper also is in fine form, as is his frontline partner, on "The Bob Cooper-Conte Candoli Quintet" (VSOP -- rec. live in 1993, only two weeks before Cooper's death from a heart attack), but I'm not crazy about the bass-drum team here (John Leitham and Paul Kreibich). The rhythm section on "For All We Know" is in a different league.

"I just think...........we should discuss narcissism.........in the jazz community of course........any examples come to mind??" Yes. Reportedly, Stan Getz washed his hands BEFORE urinating.

'Cause he's got a sound as big as all outdoors? Actually I've got some Johansson on an album by drummer/composer Peter Danemo that I like, "Kapell" (Dragon). Nice solo work there too by trumpeters Flemming Agerskov and Staffan Svensson.

Clem, I'm sorry to hear what you say about the availibility of the book, but I'm not surprised. I think I've detected several disconnects on the line that runs back and forth from Yale U. Press to bookstores of various sorts (chains and independents) and to the distribution firms (e.g. Baker and Taylor) that usually serve as middlemen. First, the attention that Yale's editorial and sales forces are prepared to give an item like this appears to be minimal and/or distracted. For instance, after Kevin Whitehead named it toward the end of Dec. as one the best jazz books of the year on "Fresh Air," I sent an e-mail about this to my editor, to which she replied "Wonderful news." Two weeks later, she mentioned the "Fresh Air" thing in an e-mail to me (because she'd just seen it mentioned in an internal Yale U.P. newsletter) and asked if I was aware of the broadcast. I reminded her that I'd brought it to her attention in the first place. Second, a number of people have told me that when they ordered the book at their local Barnes & Noble store, they were told that the book was out of the stock at the distributor and wouldn't be back in stock for three weeks to a month. When I mentioned this problem to my editor, it immediately became clear that at Yale the editorial folks at aren't supposed to talk to the sales or distribution folks. Finally, a friend told me that when he tried to buy the book at a supposedly quality independent bookstore in Manhattan, St. Marks Books (I think that's the name), they not only didn't have it in stock but the clerk also did everything he could to discourage him from placing an order for it, apparently because doing so would involve more effort than the clerk was willing to expend at that moment. I'm beginning to think that many of the problems of the American book business are of its own making.

OK, lp -- one more time. Leonard Feather "did a lot of nasty things to people (read: musicians) etc." Agreed. But how do we get from there to "the Jewish race"? BTW, if you think Feather is "still considered a decent guy by most," I think you need to do your homework. I'd say that at least half the people who have ever heard of Feather are well aware of the more unsavory sides of his behavior.

Trolling (so to speak) back through lp's posting history to see where he might be coming from, I found this gem about Joe Segal of the Jazz Showcase, whom lp had called a "bastard" for not putting out on commercial recordings more of the material he had taped at the club over the years. This used of "bastard" led someone (I think it was Sal) to reply that Segal could more accurately be characterized as grouchy -- to which lp replied: "it's all about money with these people. that's why he's a 'bastard.'" Ah, yes -- "these people." Also if Feather is "just a piece of shit who HAPPENED to be Jewish [my emphasis]," how, again, was he "a huge ugly blotch on the jewish race in the jazz world"? Go ahead, lp, take your dog out for a walk but don't then insist that it's a pussy cat.

lp -- Enlighten me on how Leonard Feather was " a huge ugly blotch on the jewish race in the jazz world." Yes, Leonard was a self-promoting jerk in many respects, but how does one's feelings about that behavior transfer to the "race"? Are you saying that Feather's behavior springs from and relates specifically to his Jewishness? Sticking with promoter/record biz types, Alfred Lion is generally regraded as a man of sterling reputation and high achievement. If you agree (perhaps you don't), does Lion being the man he was amount to a huge lovely bouquet to "the Jewish race"? If you agree, staying in this realm, that John Hammond was somewhat equivocal figure in many respects, is Hammond then "a huge ugly blotch" on White Anglo-Saxon Protestants?

Bill is a longtime friend, one of the nicest, brightest guys I know. If you ever see the two Sea Breeze LPs by his nonet, "Infant Eyes" and "What It Is To be Frank," don't hesitate. Bill wrote some lovely charts for Lee Konitz's nonet -- I remember "Footprints" in particular, on the Steeplechase album "Yes, Yes, Nonet." At the time (late '70s), Bill was a student of Lee's, and thereby hangs a tale. Back in 1969-70, when I was at Down Beat, I enthusiastically reviewed Lee's album "Spirits." Bill, then a high school student in Youngstown, Ohio, read it, got the album, and, so he later told me, made a vow to study with Lee one day if possible. In recent years, Bill, who used to play alto, tenor, and clarinet too, has focused only on the soprano. IMO he has the best sound on that instrument of any one playing today -- incredibly pure and in tune but not too thin; the way he can lean into a note, expanding and contracting the vibrato the way a potter shapes wet clay on a wheel, is something else. The soprano rolls over on its back, puts its paws up in the air, and purrs for him. You can hear Bill at his best as a player on the 1997 A Records album (a division of the Danish label Challenge -- probably available from their website) "Some Enchanted Evening," duets with pianists Marc Copland, Mike Abene, and Harold Danko. Also, Bill is the editor/creator of "The Oxford Companion To Jazz."

No, that's me. But don't believe those liner notes. Last time I listened to the record, I thought that while there are some wild moments in the good sense, mostly it's out of control -- undoubtedly for the reason Chuck mentioned.

There's a plane crash in it that's the most remarkable I've ever seen on the screen -- and not just from a special effects point of view; it's a powerful storytelling episode, maybe the most powerful in the movie. On the other hand, it's damn hard to make an epic about a psycho of Hughes' type. Scorsese did his best, but maybe a movie about a man like Hughes called for a smaller budget and Luis Bunuel.

Got a copy today, have listened to the first three tracks and am very impressed. Per the discussion on another thread of how to write behind soloists, listen to how Phil's figures inspire Pete Christlieb. Fine recording job too.

Dan's account of what led up to that day and what happened during it is in Chilton's book. Reading between the lines, I'm sure he had doubts about proceeding with the show (of course it could have gone on with just Roy Eldridge and the rhythm section), but I would say, based on what I remember, that a) Hawkins very much wanted to play and b) and, as Dan's account makes clear, dealing with the shocking fact of Hawkins' condition when he arrived at the airport and its emotional impact on everybody, especially Dan, Hawkins' insistence that he be released from the hospital where he had been taken from the airport, and the practical problems of then getting him from his hotel to the TV studio, once he had eaten something (the doctor who examined him said that the problem was malnutrition) and began to feel better, built up a lot of pressure and momentum in what was only a short period of time -- and then there was an even shorter period of time once everyone got to the studio.

Lazaro -- Honestly I don't remember. All I recall was how worried Dan Morgenstern (my boss at Down Beat then, who had brought Hawkins to town without being aware of how far gone he was) and I, and others too were about Hawkins' condition -- both in terms of his ability to play and his general physical/emotional well-being. I'm sure there were thoughts of not letting him get up on the stand, but that's what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it would have been humiliating to try to stop him. It also seemed clear that he had only a short time to live, that there was nothing anyone could do about it or that he wanted anyone to do about it. I recall, too, hoping that there might be some way to protect and preserve his dignity under the circumstances. (As it turned out, the next day at the airport I got a chance to do something that might have helped some there.) Having since been around other people shortly before they died, I think I understand what was going on a bit better now, but still...