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I've lived on Chicago's south side for only 21 years, and regularly play with a few oldtimers. Tenor saxophonist/vocalist Johnnie Henderson tells me stories about playing in an early Sun Ra Arkestra alongside Eddie Harris in the late '50s. At that time Phil Cohran was the trumpeter, after Art Hoyle. There is now a school at 51st St. between Cottage Grove and King Drive named after Capt. Walter Dyett, who taught many of these musicians at DuSable High School. Capt. Dyett might be the common link to the "Chicago Sound" from Nat "King" Cole through the Art Ensemble of Chicago. Has anyone else here heard the guitarist Larry Frazier? I first met him right before a paid gig with Johnnie Henderson's big band 3 years ago. He taught me much in a few hours. Larry is proud to never have had a "day job" for 50+ years, and is probably best known for working with Jimmy McGriff in the '60s. I have an obscure 1983 album on the Beehive label, named after the famous jazz club torn down for the University of Chicago's "urban renewal" (3 blocks away from my house). It's called "Hyde Park After Dark" with Von Freeman, Cy Touff, Clifford Jordan, Victor Sproles, Norman Simmons, and Wilbur Campbell. This is my definition of Chicago hard bop. The Beehive was where Thelonious Monk first met Johnny Griffin and Wilbur Ware in 1955. Kudos to those who mentioned John Young, George Freeman, Jimmy Ellis, Willie Pickens, Jodie Christian, and Wilbur Campbell. Hard Bop is alive and well in Chicago, with bassist Larry Gray and drummer Robert Shy getting most of the high profile gigs when a famous musician needs a local rhythm section here. For those who don't mind me going past the time period mentioned by the OP, I've gotta mention trumpeter Corey Wilkes, saxophonists Edward Wilkerson and Ernest Dawkins, and Von Freeman's jam sessions at the New Apartment Lounge. Hard bop in Chicago lives!

I've been a Jimmy Smith fan since an afternoon 35 years ago when I skipped classes in prep school, rode the bus to the closest decaying industrial town and found a new "Prayer Meetin'" LP with Stanley Turrentine in the $1.99 cutout bin. I accumulated most of his Blue Notes and Verves back in college (late '70s/early '80s). I remember reading bad reviews then of his latest album, "Sit On It", which was released when many of my heroes (Freddie Hubbard, Stanley Turrentine, Herbie Hancock, and even Pharoah Sanders and Jackie McLean) made sell-out albums. Still, the album cover of Jimmy Smith's "Sit On It" was as cheesy as any. Tonight my wife just said that the lady sitting on top of the organ has great legs. We both heard him perform in our neighborhood 13 years ago. Last month I had time to waste in my favorite local used record shop and bought a shrinkwrapped cutout LP of 1977's Mercury LP "Sit On It" for $7.98. Tonight I rediscovered it in the stack of LPs I hope to covert to CD, but wonder if I'll be disappointed. This has been my epitiome of crass tacky jazz for over 30 years. I once proudly took an acetylene torch to my promotional copy of "Double Shot" by Chet Baker and the Mariachi Brass, and don't regret it. I decided two years ago not to collect the vinyl LPa I love, since I collect enough stuff already (obsolete computers, CPU chips and hard drives, 100-year-old dimes, etc.) so that I'd just keep the music on a terabyte hard drive, unless a musician had autographed the album cover. That decision helped me pay the mortgage and other bills for a few months after I was laid off in 2007, thanks to a bunch of Sun Ra Saturns and other LPs I bought in college. My question now is whether to open Jimmy Smith's "Sit On It" and store it on my hard drive. I suspect it's one of his worst sessions ever. (Although now I perversely love "Monster" from 1966 with schlocky Oliver Nelson arrangements of "Theme from the Munsters" and "Goldfinger" - I'm listening to it right now.) Is "Sit On It" a truly forgettable part of Jimmy Smith's discography from the worst part of his career and the disco era, or might Japanese collectors pay big bux for it when the economy revives in a few years? (My wife is convinced that life on planet earth will end in 2011, which is when I think earthlings will return to spending impulsively.) I don't need to hear predictions on when life on earth will end, or when kitsch will again become profitable as collectibles (I spend lots oftime on eBay). This long post simply asks two questions: 1) Should an inveterate jazz and Jimmy Smith fan listen to an LP which might be one of his worst?, 2) Will vinyl collectors pay a premium for this in a few years?

Hines revisited all 8 tunes from that session in an adventurous solo piano set for Chiaroscuro Records in 1970 in what is my all-time-favorite Fatha Hines session ("Quintessential", CR101). He admitted than he had all but forgotten a couple of the tunes by then, but managed to surpass the originals. Will these ever be issued on CD? 1. My Monday Date 2. Off Time Blues 3. Just Too Soon 4. Chimes In Blues 5. Chicago High Life 6. Blues In Thirds 7. Stowaway 8. Panther Rag

Good grief, exactly. My favorite Brubeck album is "Quiet as the Moon" from 20 years ago, with lots of Charlie Brown/Peanuts references. A jazz pianist whose age in years is equal to the keys on his instrument is to be celebrated as much as a bowler who scores his weight.

I'm glad to hear that someone else hears merit in some of Bud's very last recordings. The version of "Like Someone In Love" on "Ups 'n Downs" has lots of flubs, especially in the left hand, and is nowhere as strong as the version made for the Dexter Gordon "Our Man In Paris" session. Bud enjoyed playing this as a mini-concerto in his Paris years. I dig the stride section, and feel this is much better than his first attempts at this tune, from December 1954, where he got lost.

Thanks, everyone for all the opinions and sleuthing! This has been a great and informative thread. Tonight I discovered another tidbit about "Ups 'n Downs". Mainstream gave the title of one track as "I Can't Believe That I'm In Love With You", which Bud fans recognize as his"Buttercup". (Most will agree with me that this 1966 version is much better than Bud's 1st recording of this tune in June of 1954 for Norman Granz). "Buttercup" is simply Bud's version of an old song by Jimmy McHugh & Clarence McGaskill with the title that appears on the Mainstream LP. The chord changes are the same, and the melody is very similar to the version of "I Can't Believe That I'm In Love With You" as recorded by Coleman Hawkins on June 30, 1931, with Eddie Condon, Muggsy Spanier, & Jimmy Dorsey onboard. The same tune also shows up on the "Bird" soundtrack with a Charlie Parker solo over a modern rhythm section.

Bud was hospitalized from 9/4/51 through 2/5/53. I've read that when he was hospitalized he painted a keyboard on his wall, which was the only way he could practice. He once asked a visitor (Jackie McLean?) if he could hear the sounds Bud was "playing" on the wall. No matter what method Bud used to practice, his "Tea For Two" from 2/7/53 is as good as any version I've heard him play. He's more relaxed here than on his earlier solo version for Norman Granz. Yes, he is strongly influenced by Art Tatum, but still says exactly what he wants to say in his own style. The same can be said for just about any track I've heard from early '53. (I have the Fresh Sounds CD-1017 on which his Feb. and March Birdland dates have acceptable sound quality). The D.C. club date from 4/53 Elektra later released as "Inner Fires" is just as good, although the sound quality isn't. And we all know how well Bud performed in May of '53 at Massey Hall. In August, he was still at his creative peak, making some more masterpieces for Blue Note ("Glass Enclosure", "Polka Dots and Moonbeams"). I haven't heard the Sept. '53 club dates but note that there's nothing in his discography from that month until June of 1954, when his playing was much darker and slower (listen to "It Never Entered My Mind" on Verve to hear the difference). 1953 is generally considered the last year Bud Powell's technique was in its prime. It was also the year that the manager of Birdland, Oscar Goodstein, became his legal guardian and started keeping him in a locked hotel room (house arrest?) between gigs. Others have written that this was the year Bud started his largactyl prescription, (which was used to combat schizophrenia but weakens the muscle system). Sometime in 1953 Bud attempted suicide by slitting his left armpit (he knew enough not to mess with his wrists).

Jimmy Smith - At Club Baby Grand, Wilmington, DE, Volume 2 (Blue Note mono)

Sony released the July 25 concert and it's great! Miles' playing is as adventurous here as anywhere else I've heard. 'The concert started and ended with themes from Bitches Brew, but manages to move seamlessly into "Milestones", "Footprints" and "Round Midnight" in the middle. details The July 26 concert looks like it's deserving of a legitimate release, too. That's the night they played "Masqualero" Another Night

I like Bird's version the best, too. There's an overly straight version by Ella Fitzgerald which I won't bother to revisit. However, the most unforgettable version I've heard of this tune is by Screamin' Jay Hawkins. He takes Cole Porter's coloring book and turns it into a comic book (or Mad Magazine), also scribbling in silly references to Germany, China, and Africa ("I saw Mau Mau kissing Santa Claus") before returning to Paris with its campy accordion, sound effects and big band arrangement. (Hey, I just discovered someone put that one up on YouTube, too).

There are lots of bad Bud Powell performances, and most are from the second half of his career (1954-1966). I noticed that your AMG synopsis didn't include "The Return of Bud Powell" on Roulette from October 1964, where Bud's playing is routine. If he ever sold out, it was on this recording, made only so he and Francis Paudras could pay airfare back to France. Bud doesn't have much to say here, and almost refused to make this date when he saw he had to play with drummer J.C. Moses again. I much prefer the later "Ups 'n Downs", where Bud at least tries and says something, despite all his handicaps. I'm not too fond of "Salt Peanuts" reissued on Black Lion, recorded in Edenville, France 7/64 with a bass player and drummer Bud met on the beach at the last moment. He played a dercrpit piano and his "vocalizations" (grunting) is distracting. Only Johnny Griffin redeems this one for me. The AMG synopsis ignores the many "home recordings" of Bud (relased on Mythtic Sound, Pablo, or Piadrum), taped by Francis Paudras. A few of these are intersting, but most are of interest only to the most avid Bud fans. In my opinion, the absolute worst and weirdest Bud recordings were made for Verve in 12/54 and 1/55. Bud falls apart on standards he knew, and played much better, even in his last years. On 1/13/55 he recorded a meandering theme which he titled "Mediocre", perhaps as a commentary to what he tried while falling apart at the keyboard the previous two days. "The Complete Bud Powell on Verve" has all of these, back to back. I wish many of these had never been issued.

Yes, I play piano, which my wife now takes for granted. The last time I played my favorite Bud Powell compositions (I'll Keep Loving You, Time Waits, Celia, Buster Rides Again, and Un Poco Loco) was at a large party after midnight. People there thanked me, saying they thought they were hearing records. I did the same at home when the plumber was working in the bathroom and told me he thought he was listening to the radio, but he couldn't name a local radio station that would have played those songs. Yes, "Bud on Bach" is an ear-opener.

I became a Bud Powell fanatic after listening to his last 3 Blue Note albums a couple of years ago. I had listened to the early Blue Notes, the Massey Hall concert, the Mosaic Box, and a Verve "best of" set for many years, thinking he was just the "Charlie Parker of the piano" pr a youngster encouraged by Monk. Then I read Francis Paudras' "Dance of the Infidels" about his years with Bud in Paris, and have been obsessed ever since with Bud's music from the last half of his career. The 2 RCA sessions have some of the best sound quality ever, and some good takes. My favorite was at the end of the 1st session, and has not yet been commercially released: a new composition Bud performed solo called "A Lullabye to Believers" The liner notes on the original releases implied that Bud was troubled and this was not his best work, so the RCA sessions have been ignored for decades. There are a few late Bud Powell recordings which I wish had never been released: "The Return of Bud Powell" for Roulette in Oct. '64, some of the '60s home recordings by Francis Paudras, some of the Edenville 7/64 sessions and, especially, much of the January 1955 sessions for Verve. Since they have been released, I know how troubled this genius could be. I started another thread, in the discography section here, about Bud's very last recordings, issued as "Ups 'n Downs", and am ecstatic how posters here have nailed down the recording dates (1965-66). Bud's technique had declined quite a bit by then, but he still showed his intensity. His 1957-58 recordings were better than his last ones, using the same intensity but a darker, thicker technique than what he used to dazzle us in the late '40s/early '50s. I'm one of the few who prefers late Bud to early Bud. I don't think I'll ever have the technique on piano to play early Bud. But after years of being belittled my family who encoouraged me to spend less time with music, I appreciate what Bud was still able to do after years of torture and imprisonment while the music kept burning inside him.

I have the 4 video tracks from Brussels, 1962 on VHS from Shanachie Home Video, called "Tenor Legends: Coleman Hawkins and Dexter Gordon". (It adds 2 1970 tracks from 1969 or 1970 by Dexter Gordon in Copenhagen). These are 4 of my favorite Coleman Hawkins tracks, even with (or perhaps because of) the unusual sidemen. The unaccompanied sax solo is titled "For Adolphe Sax" instead of "Dali" on my version. Someone posted these to YouTube, about 6 months ago, but they seem to have been pulled. I also have an LP of the 1952 club date with Art Blakey and Horace Silver, and Roy Eldridge or Charles McGhee alternating on trumpet. I found this on a Boris Rose bootleg almost 30 years ago. My LP has the title "Disorder at the Border", since the album starts and ends with 2 different versions of this uptempo blues. This music would excite me more if the sound quality were better. Has anyone bothered to remaster it?

So does bassist Henry Grimes, despite reports of his death 25 years ago. The most amazing jazz obituary I read this year was that of Franz Jackson, the longtime Chicago tenor saxophonist/clarinetist/vocalist who played with Albert Ammons, Earl Hines, Fletcher Henderson, and Fats Waller. Franz passed away a few months ago after playing for 3 hours at his own 95th birthday party.

Frank Lowe has been a favorite of mine since I first heard "Fresh" in college. with a 'cello (Abdul Wadud) that kept his Monk deconstructions together. Anyone reading this should also try to check out "Duo Exchange" with Rashied Ali and Lowe's contributions to the Don Cherry album on A&M Horizon (sometimes known as "Brown Rice").

Thanks, Masayuki, and Caravan! I have only the original Mainstream LP of Ups 'n Downs, but always suspected that this was recorded well after Bud's fall 1964 Birdland engagement. I thank both of you for your insight, and I'm fascinated by your suspicions that most of this session may have come from Bud's rejected January 1966 session with Scotty Holt and Rashied Ali. I must find the CD reissue for tracks #11 and 12. When these recordings were first issued in the '70s no one knew their origin, but most discounted the original liner notes by Nat Hentoff, which said they were from the mid-1950s and some of his best playing. Hentoff was obviously wrong on both counts, as if he was writing liner notes for a totally different session. Carl Smith, in his book "Bouncing with Bud: All the Recordings of Bud Powell" considers this a mystery. He agrees with Claude Schouch's discography that these tracks were from 1965 and/or 1966. In 1997 he wrote: "This recording is shrouded in mystery to this day, and though Bud's technique had slipped badly in these live [?] sessions, the music is still compelling. No one seems to know, or is willing to say, where and when they were recorded or who the other musicians are....This does not appear to be a bootleg album, but a fully produced commercial release with enthusiastic liner notes by Nat Hentoff. Perhaps Mainstream Records itself did not have this information but considered the performances worth releasing whatever their origins. More intriguing is the possibility that Mainstream Records did have the correct information but for some reason chose not to disclose it. I hope someday to know the details." ESP-disk's founder Bernard Stollman (Bud's legal guardian after October 1964) has a website for his label, in which he admits ESP-disk was founded in upon borrowing his inheritance from his mother to record music until he ran out of funding in 1973 or 1974. Mainstream somehow issued "Ups 'n Downs" shortly after ESP-disk went broke. ESPdisk.com had a forum in 2006 and 2007, which was coincidentally (?) deleted a week after I asked about the Bud Powell recordings of 1995 and 1966, and whether ESP-disk had any intentions to release any more Bud Powell recordings. Stollman has been back in business with ESP-disk since 2005 but is unlikely to divulge details of Bud's last recordings. Bud Powell's daughter, Celia, is still alive, and has taken recordings of her dad made by Francis Paudras (which Francis legally assigned to her) for issue on the Pablo label and one CD of Parisian "home recordings" on Jessica Shih's Piadrum label. Celia is not eager to share details of the last years of her father's life to Carl Smith, Claude Schouch, and others. I can't blame her to keeping family matters private Finally, this thread has been the most informative information I've read on Bud Powell's last recordings. Congratulations! Paul Robertz

I heard the Organ Doctor last November at Chicago's South Shore Cultural Center. Great smoking stuff! Near the beginning, he noticed his mike stand kept falling down slowly and asked if there was a doctor in the house who had Viagra for it. Lonnie wore a golf tam instead of his usual turban, but was roght on with everything from a very slow Gene Ammons blues to uptempo profanity. Too much fun!

Yes, this is one of my favorites. I used this album as music on hold for over a year when I had a used computer shop in Chicago and never had any complaints. It's prime late-period Powell. I find it very interesting that someone thinks that mosto of "Ups 'n Downs" may have been the January 1966 ESP-disk session with Scotty Holt and Rashied Ali. I have no reasons to refute this.

The Chicago Jazz Festival started tonight in great form with Sonny Rollins performing a free concert for thousands in Millennium Park. (In recent years, the opening headliner played in Symphony Center with tickets around $25). I won't give a concert review here, but only wish to say that the crowd was thrilled and my only disappointment was that the performance was pretty much what I expected (and that's not damning it with faint praise, either). At least the announcers didn't mention the corporate sponsors who kept admission free. I've never had so many good conversations with strangers leaving a concert as I had tonight. After reading previous posts, I guess I'll have to check out Detroit's counterpart. I'm thrilled with this year's changes in the Chicago Jazz Festival, which was shortened by a day a couple of years ago. I'll skip work tomorrow and Saturday to be in Grant Park, but it's Sunday to which I most look forward (Ed Wilkerson's 8 Bold Souls with Dee Alexander before Ornette closes it.) The Aftersets look great this year, and the Jazz Institute of Chicago has seen fit to include Southside places like Bernice's Twilight Zone and Lee's Unleaded Blues (where most Chicagoans fear to tread) in their bus tour.

I just came home from a Sonny Rollins concert in downtown Chicago and read that the Beehive was located 3 blocks from where I've lived for the last 20 years. It seems that in the early '60s the University of Chicago razed several blocks here to put up a shopping center and a high rise apartment building (known by the locals as "monoxide towers). Today the Chicago Reader posted this: http://www.chicagoreader.com/features/stories/sonnyrollins/ about Rollins' 1955 Chicago stay, including visits to the Beehive. And, yes, the sound quality of the Roach/Brown/Rollins sessions at the Beehive have kept me from revisiting what would otherwise be a favorite, just like the earlier lo-fi set with Dolphy.

Thanks, Allen 1) I found "Ups 'n Downs" unlistenable for the first 25 years I owned it. At least it shows Bud was still trying, unlike "The Return of Bud Powell" on Roulette. That one is just plain boring to me. At this point the only "unlistenable" Bud Powell I've heard are some of the Verve sides from January 1955. Some of his "home recordings" and most of the tracks from his Edenville vacation just before returning to the U.S. come close, with lots of grunting, an out of tune piano, and a timid rhythm section. 2) I didn't know that Bud Powell even attempted any public performances in 1966. You're right, there's lots of good post-1955 Powell. I like all three of his Blue Note albums. "Live In Lausanne" and "Bouncing with Bud" (with a young NHOP on bass) are among my favorites. Sounds like I need to find that Xanadu record, too.

For the last two years I've inundated myself in the music of Bud Powell, and have found that he almost always kept his intensity at the keyboard, no matter how dire the circumstances. I have purchased the excellent Bud Powell discography by Claude Schlouch and have Carl Smith's "Bouncing With Bud: All the Recordings of Bud Powell". All of this started when I revisited a Bud Powell album ("Ups 'n Downs") I purchased 30 years ago which haunted me more than any other record in my collection. My question is: "Have any Bud Powell recordings made after October, 1964 surfaced?" According to Claude Schlouch (with whom Carl Smith agrees) the answer is yes, but only on the mysterious album "Ups 'n Downs", first issued by Mainstream Records as MRL-385 in the mid-1970s and more recently reissued on CD. The CD reissue (MDCD7424) includes two bonus tracks, "Im Always Chasing Rainbows" and Horace Silver's "No Smoking". Schlouch mentions that Bud first heard "No Smoking" after the composer met him in New York in the fall of 1964. He goes on to say that the jarring version of "Round Midnight" on this album was recorded at Carnegie Hall on 3/27/65, with the other tracks recorded with an unknown bass player and drummer in Soon after Powell's last Birdland engagement ended, his friend Francis Paudras returned to France. Bud was supposed to have joined him, after cutting a lackluster session for Roulette on 10/22/64 ("The Return of Bud Powell") for no reason other than to earn plane fares. Paudras wrote that this session almost didn't happen, since Bud didn't want to play with drummer J.C. Moses, who was present for most of his Birdland engagement. Bud had missed a planned Blue Note session a week or two before. Michael Fitzgerald's online discography and E.S.P.-disk's founder Bernard Stollman make this question more interesting. After Paudras' departure, Bud stayed in New York with his teenage daughter, Celia, and her mother Frances. Attorney Stollman promised future record dates and became Bud's last legal guardian. Bud Powell performed at the 3/27/65 Carnegie Hall Charlie Parker Memorial Concert, with "his queen" Frances sitting in the wings. Schouch believes that "Round Midnight", "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows", and "No Smoking" were from this concert, and supplies good reasons to support that the rest of "Ups 'n Downs" was recorded between October 1964 and early 1966. ESP-disk's Stollman disagrees about the Carnegie Hall tracks, saying that "ESP attempted twice to record Bud solo in 1965 1966 with disastrous results. Contrary to what Francis Paudras recited in his book, I had nothing to do with booking him for the Carnegie Hall Charlie Parker Memorial Concert, and when I heard him perform from backstage, I knew the tapes should never be issued. His hands were bruised and bleeding from a fall and he was unable to form chords. I confiscated the tapes from the engineer backstage and destroyed them". Nevertheless, Paudras, Schlouch, and Fitzgerald all agree that Stollman booked Bud Powell to play another concert at Town Hall, NYC on 5/1/65. fpr which Bud received $75 and was let free to go to the streets (according to Paudras). A Down Beat reviewer mentioned a performance of "I Remember Clifford", which Bud often played in memory of his brother Richie. Stollman also arranged one last recording session with Bud Powell, bassist Scotty Holt, and drummer Rashied Ali in January of 1966 (both mentioned on jazzdisco.org). All sources agree that the tapes from these last two sessions were never issued, and may have been destroyed. Bud Powell died in July of 1966. I don't think it's likely that Bud played the piano much in in the last year and a half of his life. Everyone who was close to him them is hush about this period. I don't expect that Rashied Ali or Scotty Holt are eager to divulge details of Bud Powell's last session, and I know that his daughter Celia is reticent about her father's final year. Most jazz critics said that he had been past his prime since 1953 anyway. Still, my curiosity torments me as to what Bud Powell played near the end. He left a great poem on his deathbed in the hospital, and had managed to overcome police beatings, electro-shock therapy, largactyl, house arrest, many institutionalizations, alcoholism, tuberculosis, and worse without losing his intensity at the keyboard. Geoff Dyer wrote to Bud in his book "But Beautiful" (quoted by Carl Smith):"I've always believed that an artist is someone who turns everything that happens to him as an advantage. Was that true for you, Bud?....the days you couldn't play--wasn't there something special about those performances as you struggled to learn again the language you had helped invent? Is it possible the music was heightened by your inability to play it?--like damage to a painting enhancing a perfection that is no longer there." I welcome comments with anyone who has insight into Bud Powell's last year and a half on this planet.

Ha! I THOUGHT I'd heard that somewhere before! Ernie Kovacs was perfect for presenting Esquivel's music. "Sentimental Journey" features a flatulent bass trombone, a whistler, Hawiaan guitar, a screaming brass section, and "zu zu" background vocals in incongrous rapid succession like no other arranger has dared since. I'm not surprised that Esquivel's music doesn't get respect from more than a cult following more than once every 25 years or so. Like others before me in this thread, I consider Esquivel's over-the-top music in a class with that of Raymond Scott (Both made adventurous, outrageous music under the guise of "easy listening"). Esquivel even enjoyed the parises of Frank Sinatra during Esquivel's Las Vegas period. If you don't like well-executed corny music (done better only by Spike Jones), don't bother to check out Esquivel. Here's a review of an Esquivel Album I posted on Rate Your Music 6 months ago: <<When I was at Oberlin College 30 years ago the local radio station sold off unwanted LPs for 25 cents each. At that time, I was into campy lounge music. The best title I found was Billie Holiday's "Music for Torching". This gave me an idea. My buddy Mr. Inflammable Gass bought an acetlyne torch to conspicuously destroy the worst music we could find, in the center of campus. (Don't panic, we hadn't heard this one yet). We melted Mantovani, liberated the liberals from Liberace, and marinated "The Mariachi Brass with Chet Baker". I still don't regret any of that musical destruction. (Ironically, Liberace gave scholarship money to the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, but he never cunsulted me or Mr. Imflammable Gass.) 'Twasn't until 2005 that I discovered the music of Esquivel. Mr. Gass and I had previously described Las Vegas lounge music as what a middle-aged obese Republican and his wife would enjoy listening to in the background while they drove their Buick to a steakhouse/buffet with cocktails. Our epitome of music befitting such a conservative couple drinking and pigging out was "A Man And A Woman" by Jo Basile's orchestra. Now that I've been digging Esquivel for a couple of years, I can state that this music would stimulate the obese Republican couple in the buffet to incomprehensible acts. An average cocktail pianist might be satisfied with a four octave arpeggio. Esquivel makes it seven octaves! Whereas Mantovani was merely lush, Esquivel piants easy listening in contrasting, day-glo colors. Yes, the backround vocals (zu-zu-zu) are tacky. What's even more incredible are the incongrous sound palettes (harpsichord, Hawaiin guitar, and bassoon in rapid succession). Only Spike Jones had dared to do this before, and he sold his stuff as comedy music, but unlike Esquivel, never made it as a Las Vegas mainstay. This CD is highly recommended for anyone who enjoys outrageous, over-the-top arrangements masquerading under the guise of mainstream.>>