Mark Stryker

Thanks for the shopping list.

Jim: I don't know the late Cannonball records very well -- a hole in my knowledge that it's time to fill. Could you make some recommendations as to some effecient places to start or some don't-miss choices. Thanks. MS

That was on GNP, right? I used to have that one... The Fantasy, you say it was suppressed? Does that mean before or after it was on the market for a while? In other words, how difficult might it be to find a copy today? For what it's worth, I can report being able to find over the years all of Sahl's LPs -- exept "At Sunset." The search goes on. Regarding the pitch issue, would it not be possible to transfer the LP to computer files, pitch correct and then dub to CD? Larry: It's too bad that comedy book didn't materialize -- great idea and you would have been ideal to write it. To have seen Lenny Bruce in his prime at Mr. Kelly's -- wow!. Maybe not Coltrane at the Vanguard, but still. We'll talk more about that later. Back to the premise. Anyway, onward.

Some tidbits, thoughts and links: First, Newhart, one my heroes -- slyly subversive ("Abe Lincoln vs. Madison Ave," "Retirement Party") and just so smart, unique and hilarious ("Nobody Will Ever Play Baseball," "Infinite Number of Monkeys," "Introducing Tobacco"). "The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart" not only won the Spoken Word Grammy for 1960 as mentioned earlier in this thread, but it won Album of the Year too. Newart has said that business was so bad at Warner Bros Records in early 1960 that Jack Warner had considered shutting down the entire division but changed his mind when "Button-Down Mind" became a hit -- it sold 700,000 copies and spent 14 weeks as No. 1 on the Billboard pop charts. At one point they were selling so swiftly that Warner Bros ran out of record jackets and sold thousands in plain white sleeves with IOUs for the jackets. At the time, Newhart was a neophyte, having never even worked a true nightclub until the week in Houston when the album was recorded. He tells a story about how after one of the first shows, the crowd was simply roaring and the club owner said to him backstage, "You've got to go back out there." Newhart says, "What do you mean? I've done everything I have." And the owner practically pushes him back on stage. So he gets out there and the crowd quiets and he says, "Which bit do you want to hear again?" As mentioned previously in the thread, there have been comedy records of some sort since the beginning of recording, but the genre really took off with the LP. As MG noted, the LP allowed the the reproduction of a comic's nightclub act. But it also coincided with the new kind of comedian that developed in the late '50s (Bruce, Sahl, Nichols and May, Winters, Berman, Newhart). The synergy peaked between 1958-63. At one point in 1961 there were about a dozen comedy records in the Billboard top 150 albums, half them in the top 40. If you didn't guess by now, I once did a shit load of research on this for a story (South Bend Tribune, 1992), which is where I've cribbed all of this info. This was, obviously, in a period when there weren't all that many opportunities to hear young comics on TV and there was no such thing as a "comedy club" as we know them. Newhart said to me for the story that it was the college crowd driving the record sales: "They'd buy our records and they'd get pizza and a six-pack and they'd sit around somebody's living room and that was their nightclub. And we were dealing with areas they were concerned about. They always called the '50s the 'dead '50s' but I always thought there was a lot of revolt and anti-system feeling. I don't think everybody rolled over and playd dead. God knows Lenny was dealing with issues and Mike and Elaine with the telephone company routine and other large monoliths and I was attacking the corporation -- we were talking to their concerns." Random notes: Sahl's "The Future Lies Ahead" (Verve, 1958) was the first spoke-word comedy album taped live in a nightclub, the hungry i in San Francisco. Berman's "Inside Shelly Berman" (Verve, 1960) was the first best-selling comedy record, entering the top 40 in April 1959 and peaking at No. 2 for five weeks. That album spent nearly an entire year in the top 40 and more than two years in the top 150. Surprisingly, not as much classic comedy LP audio on youtube as I might have guessed, but I found these for starters: Newhart: "Abe Lincoln vs. Madison Ave." http://youtube.com/watch?v=7FopDTIrZSU Newhart: "Tobacco" http://youtube.com/watch?v=Dsc2nQ3BCZA Woody Allen: Mort Sahl:

There was lots of debate here about the Joshua Bell plays-in-the-subway story that eventually won Gene Weingarten a Pulitzer Prize. I don't want to rehash the pros/cons, but thought people might be intrigued by this coda. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/conte...8062401153.html

Or even Duke Ellington, Armstrong, Bechet, Baby Face Willette or Fred Jackson. I have to agree that much of what politicians say of their personal preferences is tailored. The only one I know likes jazz, because he's often seen in clubs, is Ken Clarke. MG On the subject of politicians and jazz, Rep. John Conyers' affection is honest. He's old friends with many of the great Detroiters of his generation (Barry Harris, Tommy Flanagan, etc. -- went to high school with some of them). I've seen him at Baker's Keyboard Lounge. Jimmy Carter was also truly a jazz fan. There was, of course, the famous White House jazz festival in 1978. Plus, there's this: At some point in the '80s on a trip to Chicago, he asked some folks where to go to hear some great live jazz. He got directed to the Get Me High Lounge where saxophonists Ed Peterson and Lin Halliday were playing. The story as I heard it was that the secret service agents came in and cased out the join right before Carter entered. What's hilarious is that the Get Me High was among greatest dives you can imagine. Our Chicago friends could fill in details, but it was a crackerbox. I remember people having to not only walk on the bandstand to get to the men's room but sometimes actually having to walk through the band. The idea of a former President of the United States in a joint like that gives me the giggles. Related note: Conyers isn't the only hip member of our Michigan delegation. I saw Sen. Carl Levin at a Chamber Music Society of Detroit concert a couple months ago and we were introduced. When he found out I was the classical critic with the Free Press, he started asking me questions about relatively obscure American composers and a couple weeks later a CD showed up in my mail from him with a handwritten greeting. I'm sorry, I'm temporarily blanking on the name of the ccomposer; he had Jewish roots and died young in the 1950s; when I think of it I'll update this post.

http://www.wattxtrawatt.com/ A biographical query took me to Carla Bley's website today (link above), where I discovered the most delightfully insane content I've ever seen on a musician site. Flashes of nuttiness everywhere you look, staring with the prison-block lmap on the menu page. I think Karen Mantler is primarily responsible for the site -- um, there's an apple that didn't fall far from the tree. One fave is in news/classifieds: "Beautiful blonde with leash looking for pets in need of walking. Call Karen."

FWIW, I recently wrote about Concord's reissue of the four original RTF LPs. Going back and listening closely to these records for the first time in decades was an interesting experience. I mostly disliked them for the same reasons I always did, though there were a couple of things that surprised me, particularly composition-wise. I will say this from the old days: The group sounded better accompanied by some bong hits. (70s is as 70s does.) Also, don't be lumping Weather Report in with RTF -- there's just no comparison in terms of the musicianship and depth of expression. Early WR -- the abstract first two records and the trilogy of Sweetnighter, Mysterious Traveler and Black Market with their increasingly fleshed out compositions and amazing orchestrations are deep. Later WR is a different story, but I've come to really, really admire that early stuff. Anyway, here's what I wrote about RTF: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nostalgia has a funny way of turning everything into a "classic," from lowbrow sitcoms to mildly successful pop tunes. Even questionable jazz of a certain vintage can re-emerge decades later to a chorus of huzzahs from press and fans. To put it another way: Return to Forever is back. Forgive me for not jumping for joy. Chick Corea's quartet, an icon of '70s fusion, has reunited for the first time in 32 years, save a one-off concert in 1983. The foursome -- Corea on keyboards, Al Di Meola on guitar, Stanley Clarke on electric bass and Lenny White on drums -- lands at Freedom Hill on June 21. Meanwhile, Concord is releasing "The Anthology" (** out of four stars, in stores Tuesday), a two-CD compilation that collects most of the music issued on the band's four original Polydor and Columbia LPs from 1973-76. Return to Forever specialized in souped-up jazz-rock with a high-gloss finish that emphasized pyrotechnic speed, ear-crunching volume and Corea's suite-like compositions with their consciousness-raising aura and high-concept titles like "Space Circus," "Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy" and "The Romantic Warrior." The music was a cornerstone of fusion's second wave, as the initial exploratory abstraction morphed into more heavily grounded and populist styles. Purists blanched, but Return to Forever had a huge following with progressive rock audiences, who dug the high-wattage jamming, and younger musicians, especially products of nascent jazz education programs, who absorbed the players' technical wizardry, cutting-edge technology and unified concept. Fans will be heartened to know that Concord's exemplary remastering gives these records greater sonic clarity than ever. However, as someone with the utmost admiration for Corea's innovative straight-ahead jazz, I find Return to Forever to be a textbook of rococo excess and empty virtuosity. The issue is not fusion. Rock rhythms, synthesizers and electric guitars are not, by themselves, the enemy. But the music's hyperactivity quickly turns oppressive and claustrophobic. The guitar playing also leaves me cold. Both Bill Connors, who played on the first LP, "Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy," and Di Meola, who appeared on the others, prefer relentless speed, distortion and volume rather than expressive phrasing, melodic shape and storytelling. Corea's improvisations are full of surprise, but his Achilles' heel can be an easy glibness and weakness for collage -- qualities reinforced by Return to Forever's arena-rock vibe and the twitching foundation created by Clarke's scampering bass and White's bashing drums. On the other hand, Corea's ambitious works like "Song to the Pharaoh King" and "Celebration Suite Part I & II," with their extended forms, evolving textures and multi-thematic ideas, sound even more prescient today in their expansive view of small-group composition. Bob Belden's insightful liner notes identify similarities with classical tone poems and concertos. He even finds a parallel between Alban Berg's "Wozzeck" and Return to Forever's "Romantic Warrior." It's a grandiose claim, but grandiosity is a big part of what this music was about.

thanks for this. not a guy I knew anything about at all -- even though he's from Detroit. Bjorn and Gallert's Detroit jazz history "Before Motown" (UMich Press) has a few lines about him. He apparently led a band here from 1933-38.

I was at one of our great used record stores today in Ann Arbor and found this cut on Jr.'s first album, "Young Love for Sale." It's on Reprise and the billing is "Frank Sinatra Jr. and the Sam Donahue Orchestra. A line credits Walt Stuart and Chuck Slagle with the arrangements but doesn't say who did which ones. Never heard of these guys before -- anybody know anything about them? Big Band/Studio journeymen?

Same guy, of course. Believe it or not, Leonard recently celebrated his 60th birthday. Last weeks' mini-B3 festival weekend in Detroit was something of a b-day party. King relocated to Minneapolis/St. Paul a couple years ago because there was more work, especially the opportunity for a an education-outreach program he's developed for schools. He still comes back to play here semi-regularly.

Here's video of Bennie playing "Nutville" with Horace in 1968 with Bill Hardman, John B. Williams and Billy Cobham. http://youtube.com/watch?v=Mxfix2NuWNw

I have not kept up with the logisitics of the law since writing this story 10 years ago, but thought the board might find the particulars in this case interesting. Armstrong, by the way, did eventually win settlements in this suit. He did well, though the specifics were protected. AUGUST 23, 1998 Sunday METRO FINAL EDITION NO FREE SAMPLES A DETROIT JAZZ MUSICIAN SUES AFTER SNIPPETS OF HIS SONG ARE USED TO MAKE A RAP RECORD AND SELL SHOES BYLINE: MARK STRYKER Free Press Music Writer SECTION: FEATURES; Pg. 1L LENGTH: 1445 words It was early April 1996 and Ralphe Armstrong was relaxing in his Detroit home. Reading his newspaper in bed and watching TV, he realized that the major league baseball season was opening that night. If there's one thing that Armstrong, an internationally known jazz bassist, loves nearly as much as music, it's baseball. He flipped the channel to ESPN as a commercial for Adidas athletic shoes flashed across the screen. The rap music soundtrack immediately caught his ear. Man, that's a hip drumbeat, he thought. Then a high falsetto vocal chimed in on top of the drums -- hey, hey, hey, hey. Armstrong picks up the story: "I listened and said, 'That's a weird sounding voice.' Then I listened again and said, 'Huh, that sounds familiar.' The third time I listened, I almost fell out of the bed: 'That's me singing on this commercial!!!'" And so began the oddest episode in Armstrong's career -- a labyrinthine tale involving lawyers, lawsuits and two recordings -- a 1976 LP by John McLaughlin's Mahavishnu Orchestra, one of the era's premier jazz-fusion bands, and a 1991 CD by Massive Attack, a critically acclaimed English rap group. Other characters in this drama, aside from Adidas, include a major record company and a Hollywood film studio. It's a potboiler that opens a window on the sometimes grimy world of the pop music industry, and it's a story that, in the end, might make Armstrong very wealthy. Armstrong, 42, has filed suit in U.S. District Court in New York claiming that Massive Attack infringed on his copyright by unlawfully sampling -- electronically copying bits of sound from a recording -- a composition he wrote and recorded in the '70s with the Mahavishnu Orchestra. The suit claims that the Massive Attack song "Unfinished Sympathy" on its album "Blue Lines" includes passages lifted from Armstrong's "Planetary Citizen," which appears on the Mahavishnu album "Inner Worlds." More than a dozen defendants are named in the suit, including the three people in Massive Attack, two producers, the American and British divisions of Virgin Records, several publishing companies, Adidas and the shoe company's ad agency. If Armstrong wins in court, he would be entitled to a share of the profits Massive Attack and the record company made from the song -- both from CD sales and live concert performances. Armstrong would also be entitled to publishing fees and licensing fees -- and possibly shoe company profits attributable to the TV commercial. Settlements in similar cases have netted plaintiffs hundreds of thousands of dollars. Armstrong, whose resume also includes touring or recording with Frank Zappa, Jean-Luc Ponty, Aretha Franklin, Earl Klugh, Eddie Harris and Geri Allen, contacted an attorney soon after hearing himself on the television commercial. After some research, he discovered that "Unfinished Sympathy" had also been licensed to Paramount for the soundtrack of the 1993 film "Sliver." The song appears as the backdrop for a steamy sex scene between Sharon Stone and William Baldwin. Armstrong has already reached an out-of-court settlement with Paramount for the use of the song. The terms are protected by a confidentiality agreement. "It's just like being robbed." says Armstrong. "Not at gunpoint, but it's insulting. Some people say it's to glorify your art, but it doesn't glorify anything to me. It makes me mad because they stole it." Armstrong says that Massive Attack copied a distinctive drumbeat, a short bass fragment and two key melodic phrases from his original, the first comprising the words "hey, hey, hey, hey" and the second "are you ready?" "They sampled a readily identifiable portion of Ralphe's composition as he had performed it with his vocal performance, and then what they did was to loop it and make it the dominant part of the Massive Attack recording," says his lawyer, Robert Osterberg of New York. Repeated attempts to reach Massive Attack for comment through its record company were unsuccessful. Lawyers for the other major defendants, Virgin and Adidas, said their companies will not comment on pending litigation. Copyright law says that in order to prevail, Armstrong must prove there is a "substantial similarity" between his original composition and Massive Attack's song. The test for substantial similarity is whether an average observer would recognize that elements of Massive Attack's song were copied from Armstrong's original. The law allows minimal use of copyrighted material without permission, but the courts have not specified an exact amount; the law also says a copyrighted work may be used for criticism, comment, reporting, teaching or research. Copyright experts say that the length of a sample is less important than whether it reproduces the heart of a song, which might be as little as a bar or two of music. In a key 1991 case in New York, a federal judge ruled against rapper Biz Markie for sampling only three words from Gilbert O'Sullivan's '70s pop song "Alone Again (Naturally)." The judge opened his opinion with a quote from the Bible: "Thou shalt not steal." "In terms of Armstrong's case, this is terrific because only a small portion of 'Alone Again (Naturally)' was used, and nobody would confuse the Biz Markie album with 'Alone Again (Naturally),' " says Larry Iser, a music and copyright lawyer in Los Angeles. Since the Biz Markie case, record companies and artists have generally become more careful about seeking permission to sample the material of others. But lawsuits have also become more common, with all but a few settling out of court. Defendants in sampling cases typically argue that the music copied either isn't original or the amount sampled is so small that the new work is different overall from the other. Iser says that Massive Attack could claim that Armstrong's "hey, hey, hey, hey" refrain has been part of the public domain since early rock 'n' roll. But the other sampled phrase -- "are you ready" -- will be a tougher fight. "Once you've sampled a lyric that's something more than 'hey, hey, hey' or 'yeah, yeah, yeah,' you're much more likely to sustain the claim that a substantial piece of the original lyric was infringed," Iser says. Massive Attack might also claim that the drumbeat it sampled should not be considered part of Armstrong's composition. The courts have traditionally protected melody and lyrics, but rhythm is a murky issue. There is a line of cases suggesting rhythm cannot be copyrighted. But some lawyers also say that a drumbeat could be so unique -- especially in rap music where songs are often just lyrics and rhythm -- that it might qualify as composition. There is one more distinction important to Armstrong's case. There are two separate copyrights in play. Armstrong owns the copyright on the song "Planetary Citizen," but Sony owns the copyright on the Mahavishnu Orchestra album, the performance. So just because Massive Attack sampled Armstrong's voice, it doesn't mean his copyright was infringed. (Osterberg says he is not aware of any suit filed by Sony against Massive Attack.) Armstrong was just 19 years old when he wrote and recorded "Planetary Citizen," a souped-up funk tune with naive but sincere lyrics dedicated to world peace through love. There are several levels of irony here: Licensing the song legitimately would have cost Massive Attack and Virgin Records a fraction of what they might end up paying in the end -- one copyright lawyer said $5,000 to $10,000 would not have been an unreasonable sum for the rights to sample "Planetary Citizen" on a CD. Moreover, it's an odd twist of fate that a song with such noble intentions should end up at the center of controversy. It could take several years for the lawyers to slug it out, but Armstrong says he's prepared to wait for what he believes is his fair share. "I don't care how long it takes," he says. "I have patience, and I'll just keep taking my vitamins. It's my product." {END} Armstrong's remarkable life as a musician began at the tender age of 7 BYLINE: By Mark Stryker SECTION: ENTERTAINMENT NEWS LENGTH: 752 words Ralphe Armstrong is a bulldog of a man with a baby face and a benevolent disposition. He has packed a lot of bass playing into his 42 years. But then, the native Detroiter got off to an early start. He took up the bass at age 7, when his father, the well-known blues musician William Howard Armstrong, made an instrument for his son by grafting a German bass neck onto a wooden box. Young Ralphe was soon working around town with dad, soaking up the city's vibrant jazz and pop scene and practicing until 4 a.m. He knew he wanted a life in music as far back as his first paying gig: playing soul music at a neighborhood bar on the east side with a real bass. He wore dark glasses and a hat so nobody would guess his age. He was 12. "I brought home $ 30, and my mother looked at me and said: 'Where did you get this money?' " Armstrong says. "I said, 'I went up on Harper and I played.' And she said, 'Well, you go back up there.' " Armstrong's career trajectory continued at warp speed. At 13, he worked a job in Washington, D.C., with Motown's Miracles. He studied classical music at Interlochen and got private pointers from Ron Carter whenever the Detroit-bred jazz great came to town. At 17, he joined John McLaughlin's Mahavishnu Orchestra for three years. By the time he was 21, he had worked with Carlos Santana and Frank Zappa and was starting a six-year tenure with Jean-Luc Ponty. He has since worked or recorded with Michael Jackson, George Benson, B.B. King, Aretha Franklin, Eddie Harris, Kenny Burrell, Geri Allen and many others. It's an unusually eclectic resume, encompassing pop, funk, fusion, soul and modern jazz. Yet what makes Armstrong unique is not just his ability to fit seamlessly into any context; it's the high-gloss refinement he brings to each style and the way he meshes a rapid-fire technique with the ability to strike a deep groove. "Ralph is a very schooled musician, but he's also very natural," says fellow bassist Rodney Whitaker, one of Armstrong's former students who has gone on to work with Wynton Marsalis and others. "He can play anything. He's one of those guys when you hear him you think: I got to go home and practice." Given Armstrong's vast experience, it's not surprising that he has developed a repertoire of stories that any raconteur would envy. There's the one about recording in London with McLaughlin and the London Symphony at age 17 and eating dinner every night with former Beatles producer George Martin and classical conductor Michael Tilson Thomas. Or the one about a trip to fascist Spain, where, if the musicians didn't finish a concert by 11 p.m., officials would cut the power and raise the house lights, then gun-toting soldiers would move the people out. One of Armstrong's best yarns is the story of how he got his break with the Mahavishnu Orchestra: One day after school, he dropped by the home of Motown bassist Michael Henderson. Henderson, then with Miles Davis, said he had some friends out East looking for a bass player. So Armstrong played his bass over the phone for a group that included drummer Narada Michael Walden. The cats were so impressed they sent the 15-year-old a plane ticket to Connecticut. While he was there rehearsing, McLaughlin dropped by, heard Armstrong and promised to call him. "Yeah, right," a skeptical Armstrong thought to himself. But a year later, the phone rang. And soon Armstrong, with his mother's blessing, was on the road with one of the biggest names of the day. He finished high school by squeezing in the academic work between tours. "My life was music," he says. "That's something people don't understand today. If you want to be an artist, you have to donate your time to it, to improve yourself mentally and physically with the instrument." These days, Armstrong travels four or five months a year. He recently recorded with R&B stylist Patti Austin. He'll appear at Labor Day's Montreux Detroit jazz fest and later this fall, he'll head to Europe with the adventurous jazz trio led by Detroit-born pianist Allen. "I don't limit myself," he says."I try not to become close-minded to new ideas because then you become complacent. That's what Miles (Davis) was always into: trying to grow. I feel if you become too arrogant to not accept new ideas, you should really give it up. Music is something that you can always learn more from."

David was in a car accident in 1953 and spent years, unbeknowst to him, playing on what essentially was a dislocated jaw. Eventually, the lingering effects of all of this made it impossible for him to play and he had to give up the trombone for good in 1962. He had always taught, even back in the '50s in Indianapolis, so that was a logical career move, as was composing. He cast about for another instrument, first trying piano, and then settling on cello, which has been his primary instrument since that time. I am not aware that he has ever picked up the trombone again in recent years. Maybe, but I talk to him every few years or so and he's never said anything about it. I'm still connected to lots of people in Bloomington (my hometown) and nobody has ever mentioned that. Ghost: Did you ever ask him directly? In his day, he could play the shit out of the trombone technically.

Well, they didn't have the budget Nancy got for These Boots are Made for Walkin' clip... I don't think I have ever seen him sing that young....could be worse.... Actually, the vocal sounds pretty good to me. But the video?? What, exactly, is the emotion or feeling being expressed in, say, the opening fake mustache bit and then later on when he's hanging upside down? Also, the flippers crack me up.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=DjbB-QMzA2g

Here's a link to the 1965 St. Thomas that I alluded to earlier but couldn't put my finger on at the time. Just about 2 minutes of Sonny, then interview with NHOP and bass solo. http://video.search.yahoo.com/video/play?p...;vid=1301156370

That's another thing that bugs me about Sinatra's on stage mannerisms. What's the deal with glamorizing smoking? Surely he knew that smoking could have nothing but a deleterious effect on his singing, yet somehow he apparently felt the need to convey what he must have considered is the "hip" attitude of a smoker. Did he actually really smoke off camera? Hard to believe. In this last show he expresses in a funny, yet no nonsense way, how very important music is (was) in his life, yet the prop that promises to snuff (pun intended) the vitality out of his art has to be present. No excuse that this 1966 program represented a different attitude towards smoking - Surgeon Generals reports had been in the public consciousness for some time. Actually, the landmark Surgeon's General Report was only issued at the start of 1964 so the degree to which it had saturated the public consciousness by 1966 is highly debatable. If you're looking for a watershed mark to measure the impact of the country's evolving attitude toward smoking, I'd suggest the ban on tobacco ads on TV and radio that began in 1971. That said, everybody always knew that smoking was bad for you in some general way and singers knew it was tough on the voice. Sinatra smoked in real life, but my understanding is that he cut back when performing and might go weeks without any cigarettes leading up to important recordings or appearances -- somebody with a good Sinatra bio would have to give us more detail. I suspect he smoked for the same reason that most people smoke -- they are, more or less, addicted to nicotine. Which is not to say that smoking didn't evolve into part of his persona and remain an acting prop on stage. But in his time and milieu, smoking was as much a part of daily life as it was for jazz musicians. I wouldn't say he was glamorizing smoking; I would say he was living a lifestyle. If you want to see something incredible on many levels, check out how he opens his weekly TV show in the '50s with a direct promotion for the sponsor, Chesterfield cigarettes. This is probably 6 years before the Surgeon General's report. They don't make 'em like this anymore. http://www.dailymotion.com/relevance/searc...-promotio_music On a related note, I recall reading an interview with Lockjaw Davis who was arguing that jazz musicians should be spokespersons for cigarettes. His point was that jazz musicians should enjoy the same commercial benefits as other celebrities. Now, Jaws had a very sophisticated understanding of the music business, but I believe this interview dates to the mid '60s. Interesting as it relates to attitudes toward smoking.

TCM has posted some videos on their website. Click on "interview/specials." That gives you the choice of four tunes: "Come Fly With Me," "I Get a Kick Out of You," "I've Got the World on a String" and "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World." (On the last is from Part 2; the others are from part 1.) http://www.tcm.com/2008/sinatra/index.jsp#video

Wow! Never noticed that before -- thanks for the insight. Any other tunes with similar Haiku-derived lyrics? FYI, one John Blackburn wrote the lyric to "Moonlight In Vermont." He apparently wrote a lot of songs but this was his only real shot at immortality. Not much info about him out on the web and a Nexis search revealed no major newspaper obituaries when he died in 2006. He does have a brief, sketchy wiki entry and I also found this small-townish story http://www.pioneer.net/~bandee/page7a1.html. Plus this short bio: Composer ("Moonlight In Vermont", "Need You"), actor, director and author, educated at Western Reserve University. He directed the Cleveland Playhouse, and a teaching fellowship at the drama department at Bennington College for 2 years. He acted and directed at the Pasadena Playhouse for two years. He was a film agent and record distribution manager and song plugger, had his own record company, and worked for North American Aviation. He joined ASCAP in 1953, collaborating with Lew Porter and Karl Suessdorf. Suessdorf, by the way, wrote the music for "Moonlight in Vermont."

A programming heads up: Turner Classics is devoting May to Sinatra movies and TV specials. Most notably they're broadcasting the "Man and His Music" programs from the mid '60s. Tonight is No. 2 from 1966 and in some ways it's my favorite, even though Nancy Sinatra takes a up a chunk with her dorky "hits" (ugh -- but nice legs) and the persistent organ in the orchestrations sounds dated to me (apologies to our hosts -- don't ban me!) and the set list isn't as hip as some of the other shows. But Sinatra's voice is in extraordinarily good shape -- much better than on the more celebrated first "Man and His Music" from a year earlier. He sings one those heroic extended ballad medleys, roars through "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" and the version of "Moonlight In Vermont" is un-fucking-believable. Watch how he sings the transition from the bridge into the last 8 the second time around without a breath as the key goes up a step and time suspends in rubuto. My hair stands on end everytime I hear it -- one of my favorite moments in all of music. 8 and 11 p.m. tonight

Got it. Thanks for the heads-up.

Thought the board might be interested in the May list of LPs for sale from Ars Nova, a terrific used store in my hometown of Bloomington, Ind. The store specializes in classical and you can find some fabulous stuff at insanely fair prices. This month's list, which I got today, happened to have an unusual number of interesting jazz LPs, including a bunch of avant stuff (especially Ayler but others too), which is why I'm posting an alert. Prices are steep on the Ayler records, but some of you might be tempted by this or that. FYI, I bought Stanley Cowell's "Ancestral Streams," Carla Bley's "3/4 for Piano and Orchestra" and Cecil Taylor's "Spring of Two Blue Js." Here's the link to the store: http://home.bluemarble.net/~arsnova/ Anybody interested in classical LPs should monitor their lists or, better, ask them to put you on the email list so you get it right off the press. I've bought a lot of stuff here over the years.

http://www.jazzhouse.org/2008finalists.html Note the appearance of LK among the nominees for the Jazz Journalism Lifetime Achievement Award. The nomination only cites his work for the Chicago Tribune, Down Beat and as an author. No mention of his contributions to organissimo. (By the way, I'm not a member -- just passing along the press release.)

Well, they weren't thinking; they were reacting to Herbie's Grammy win, which got tons of attention and suddenly thrust him back into the the center of popular culture, at least for 15 minutes. Collectively, the folks who put together a list like this don't really know anything about music, art, theater, literature, etc., so it becomes a barometer of which creative people have managed to sneak onto the radar of the mainstream, and it becomes an outlet for the list makers to prove how "hip" they are. Except they're not. But that's why I think this kind of stuff (Herbie's Grammy win; Time magazine, etc.) is good for jazz; it gets the music into the discussion. Not that any single moment will change the world. In the end, it may well end up being meaningless, but if enough little moments can coalesce, it might make a difference. Maybe. Reminds me of the marketing strategy that says any single radio ad, billboard, TV commercial, newspaper ad or whatever is unlikely to move somebody into the "buy" column. But the aggregate has an effect on people. Suddenly, the product "clicks" with consumers and lodges in their mind -- it's the 10th contact that does it, not the first. That's another reflection of the shame of jazz disappearing from TV, radio, general interest magazines, newspapers, etc. Out of sight, out of mind. Another interesting thing about the list by the way, is that Wynton Marsalis is not on it (unless I missed him). Ten years ago, if a jazz musician would have made the list, it would have been him.