medjuck

https://substack.com/home/post/p-155613026?source=queue&autoPlay=false

Didn't Ivory Joe Hunter make a record with members of the Ellington band? And did James Brown do something similar or am I hallucinating that?

The latest Mosaic Gazette has a great audio interview with Barney Kessel talking about Charlie Christian.

Jeff Hamilton started the gofundme for Clayton so I presume that he's ok.

Loren Schoenberg posted something referring to Larry Schoenberg as his uncle. Does that make Arnold his grandfather?

Amongst the things he lost were Ray Brown's bass and Milt Hinton's bow.

I'd add Taj Mahal and Tab Benoit to the list of Blues artists. And there's a lot of local Nola musicians some of whom play every year.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-john-clayton-everything-lost-in-eaton-fire?attribution_id=sl:0bf4fe6a-aa4d-41f6-abd7-29cb193ff1fa&lang=en_US&utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link is a John Clayton Go Fund me. This is a letter he wrote: don’t even know where or how to begin. Thank you. That’s the perfect place. I really mean: Thank You! Your checking on me and my family, sending the support you have, wondering about me/us, and being the best family, friends, and friends-like-family is life and soul saving in ways that you can’t imagine. In fact, every time I get a message from you, it brings tears. Expressions of caring and love always do that to me. And I’m not apologetic about it—not that I could change, anyway. Whew. That’s “whew” #1. Last Wednesday, January 8th, I was honored to receive the Bruce Lundvall Visionary Award from the Jazz Congress in NYC. My wife and I flew there and Gerald presented the award to me. Before heading over for the event, we received a call in our hotel room from my daughter. She was sobbing, crying hysterically, telling us that they had lost everything. The Altadena fire had destroyed their house and everything in it. We knew they had evacuated, so she and her husband and our 2 grandchildren were safe. I’ve never been so thankful in my life. I had to work to be in the moment at the award ceremony. I dug as deeply as I could to focus on everyone’s energy and the positivity centered around me as the awardee. It was a fabulous event. We returned to the hotel to check in with family. Soon after our return, a neighbor and former student of my brother, Jeff, called. He went to check on our house. He had to take deep breaths in order to break the news to us. In tears, he let is know that “it is gone.” We had lost everything. We were stunned. Some tears were shed, but nothing like what was to come. One hour later, I had to return to Jazz At Lincoln Center for the tribute to Russell Malone. Back to directing my focus to the purpose and vibe for being there. I didn’t go back to the hotel because son Gerald led an evening that was a continuation of the earlier part of the day. I was being “honored” and musicians I know and love played their hearts out. It was a day of simultaneous celebration and grief. ************ We are now in L.A. My home in Altadena is completely gone. Also consumed by the fire are all of my instruments (yes. I know. That alone is hard to fathom), a lifetime of printed music, scores, recordings, compositions—family photos (although, thank goodness for The Cloud), every item of clothing, I’m sure you get the picture. And those are just some things related to me. My wife and children also lost so much, of course. But we have each other. I don’t care how cliche that sounds. We. Have. Each. Other. All of the practical things after such a disaster are now happening. Like thousands of others, we’re talking with insurance companies, canceling things and organizing endlessly. We have rented an AirBnB and will be here for less 2 weeks. I’ll then begin some engagements, first with The Jazz Cruise and then to Cologne with the WDR Big Band. I’ll be home after that for a couple of days and then off again. Needless to say, I’ll be working on life and house tasks from long distance as we continue to sort out our next moves. I still haven’t seen the property. They aren’t allowing people in just yet. ************** You have been asking what you can do. You’ve done it already. You continue to do it. The love you show for me and my family affects me in ways that I can’t truly convey to you. You already know I’m a crybaby. I’m sad and devastated about my house—that’s another kind of crying. The tears that you bring are tears of overwhelming gratitude and thankfulness that you are in my life. That you ask about me. That you want to know what you can DO to help me. It’s hard to write these emotions. I can’t do it without blurring up. It’s now a daily occurrence, hearing from you and realizing how strong and vast my family is. Thank you, thank you. Oh, right—you've been asking what you can do. As I pursue the items that help me live and make music, I know deep down that things will be alright. They’ll come together. I’m working toward that. There are people who are completely done in by these fires. If you know people like that, please focus on them! If you want to help my situation, financially, feel free to do so. I’m honored that you would even consider it. All dollars will help my family and me. We are sorting things out and will soon have a better understanding of how and what to replace, including instruments, temporary housing, whether to rebuild, etc. Many of you have already given to the fund to help my daughter, Gina. Thank you, if you have. Don’t feel obliged to give or to give again, please. To reiterate, anything you choose to donate will be put to use. Understand that your love and concern for us is more valuable than any dollar amount. So, dear family, friends, friends-as-close-as-family, I absolutely adore you. Please feel me/us returning the love you’ve shown me. Endless love from your fan, John

The article is in The Nation and I don't think I can link to it. He talks about it in his substack (which I don't always like) but this is really interesting.

I wonder if the Mulligan big band cuts were omitted because they were paying the musicians recording fees and that became prohibitive with the big band.

Was the additional material the music actually used in the broadcast? Or is that what's already on the record? A little off track, but I would love to hear some of the material in the Savory collection which can not be issued because of the Benny Goodman and Ellington estates. The Prez air-shots with Goodman are terrific as is the Ellington material ( think about one cd's worth.) Loren has said that there's no new songs featuring Charlie Christian but there are unissued performances.

In Sue Mingus's book Tonight at Noon she tells how, right after Carter came over to Mingus, George Wein -- over a microphone-- began asking Mingus to stand up and take a bow which of course he couldn't do. Instead he broke into tears.

https://substack.com/@tedgioia/p-153278958 Maybe not all of his 200,000 subscribers are paid subscribers.

But now he's grossing about $2 million a year.

Spotify is producing their own music because what they pay out is divided amongst any music that gets more than a 1000 plays (I forget over what time period) and the amount they pay out is a percentage of their total income. The more they pay to themselves the less they pay others. It sucks. However, I'm on Spotify a lot but almost never passively. I usually pick an album but there are also playlists like the one that has nearly every record with a Lester Young solo-- including some air-checks. It can take most of a day to get through it. When my choices do run out I often have gotten fairly good followups.(After I played some Charles Lloyd they continued with Coltrane, Dolphy etc., at one point making a perfect segue from one to another that was so good I presumed it was done by a real person-- of course shortly after that they fired most of their programmers.) Once or twice I have heard what sounds like an AI mix of Bill Evans, Bill Charlop and Eric Satie-- it was pretty awful. Is it really "Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most"? I know you can't can't copyright a title (e.g. Blue Haze) but Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most is such an idiosyncratic use of words you'd think the composers could sue.