fasstrack

And that book would be? The best critics were musicians that were jealous 'cause other guys they think they're better than have gigs. Jazz musicians who are working---and i interviewed all 6---don't have time for that stuff. Maybe they'll make a crack about a guy they have to play with who really does suck. Or maybe a prick like Stan Getz was reported to be saying certain things. You feel a story coming on, you say? Right you are!! Speaking of Jimmy, I did know him. I was a young man and approached him to study. The following summer ('80) he was staying in Brooklyn with a coulple of young guys from his hometown, Louiseville. (He was in for a re-unite w/Getz and Al Haig for the Newport Festival or whatever it was called by then). Raney's observation of the apartment's decor was to intone in his Kentucky twang: "You know I've seen furniture on the street, but it always looked better than this". So he called Stan from the place. After they talked he kind of chuckled. Then he told us Stan hated playing with Walter Bishop Jr., calling his playing "hard and glassy". "Um, Stan, are you sure you don't mean Walter DavisJr.?" "Same thing"

Good one! Hell, I might wind up being president of the Larry Kart fan club after that rough start! Larry, I'm a compulsive writer myself. Never asked for or made a dime off it. Wouldn't have the heart to do music criticism. After all, why have the balls to say publicly what I can behind peoples backs, like everyone else does ? And when it comes to talking I know I must be good at it. 'Cause everyone always tells me 'shut up' (insert deadpan emoticon here). But it all ain't naught but opinion, player or no. The only 'words' that matter are the ones coming from my guitar on the stand. (isn't it charming how I sneak in little crass self-advertisements? ). The rest is chin music. Anyway, in that regard if it's true that you copped that line unconsciously from Hodeir, I guess it's all grist for the mill----but I find that in the end our ears----players, fans, critics, chia plants----are are two best friends in getting what we will out of music. It starts and ends with listening. In jazz every tub stands on it's own bottom, speaking of old quotes. And every ear hears its own music.

Yeah. Well I apologized. Now I think I'll go read some Beckett....

I don't think it was weak at all. It sure straightened my young, insolent ass out. It must've had quite an impact, because the incident in question occured well over 20 years ago and I'm still quoting him. He was right on the money. It's very easy to talk critically, very hard to play, I mean to play, not half-step. This does not mean that players or non-players alike have no right to opinions or expression of same. Nor does it mean that people don't have valid critical points to make, of course they do, or that witty remarks are out of order about any member of this race of knuckleheads. (I'm knucklehead numero uno, president of the club and also a client). But my only point, and I agree I was overly harsh on Mr. Kart and feel badly in retrospect, is that when you put sweat and toil and years into learning to play, as I and others have and continue to do, it's pretty humbling if you're doing it right and learning from the masters. In such an undertaking you perhaps become loath to make or even read any glibly dismissive remarks about your brethrens' or betters' efforts, at least made publicly, and especially from a non-player. That's what set me off. But I did over-react and Ii'm sorry to hurt anyone's feelings.. Just sticking up for the tribe. This is not an easy life.

To point one: And if my grandmother had wheels she'd be a trolley car.... And forgive me for being overly harsh on you. We all have bugs up our asses and one of mine is people blithely shit-talking on the Internet, especially about people that good. Of course your opinion is as valid as the next guy's--the next non-playing guy's that is. But say it to the guy's face. That takes balls and the courage of one's convictions. Or better yet, since you don't play, try to master an instrument. Spend even a few years putting in time on any instrument (for openers---a lifetime isn't enough to master an instrument. Ask any good player), test your skills on gigs or even jam sessions. There are plenty of amateurs there, Lord knows. Peep what the cats think of you, that's the only meaningful barometer besides your own self-awareness. See if if you can get to the level Brook was at even back then---then we'll talk. Because, as you will find out, this shit is hard. At any rate, after walking a mile in our moccasins I bet you won't be so fast to make any critical comments. And if you still do, well...... Point two: I know Bob slightly too, through a mutual friend. Yes, he has been keenly self-appraising of his own progress as artists (and humans) must be.

Another Instant Classic! My reaction, exactly. Funny and true. Same again! And I'm sure many people have read it already, but this kind of thing is on every page of Larry's book. I'm sure I'm asking for trouble saying this, but years ago when I was fatmouthing about someone far my better to Jaki Byard Jaki put me in my place with the following rejoinder: "Everybody's a big time critic, but nobody plays shit". How's your valve trombone playing, Larry? Would love to hear some hip rhythms come from those lips. IMO it would beat the hell out of reading none-too-funny observations like that one. (Said with a smile and only to be taken so seriously).

Think you could hook me up with some of these? I ordered some awhile back but I think they sent me idiot pills by misteak. No, goddamnit. I got dibs. Do you know the one about the guy who gets a flat in front of a mental institution? An inpatient comes out and sets up the jack, raises the car, puts on the spare in 5 minutes. Driver: "How'd you do that so fast? I thought you people had problems in the brain department." Inpatient: "Yeah, I do. I'm crazy. But I'm not stupid...."

Yeah, I saw that before. Thanks a lot for starting that and remembering a genius who evidently was too musically soft spoken and self-effacing for the idiots whose heads he sailed over (not that he didn't have an ego, he had an immense one, I mean self-effacing in that he wasn't an obnoxious in-your-face self promoter. He was laid back and Southern). What a shame. What a dumb, fucked up country and culture. Thanks again for appreciating him. I'm a jazz guitarist and people seem to think I'm a pretty good one. But I couldn't touch Jimmy Raney if I lived to be 120, played every day all day, and took genius pills. He was a 99.9 percentile player.

I don't think it's ever been issued on CD, but I do believe it was reissued on vinyl in the UK back in the late '70's/early 80's, on Jasmine. Probably not much easier to find now than an original. I shoudda grabbed it when it was offered. What a jerk I was.

I don't care. I still want it. Thanks for you're reply, though.

Thanks so much, guys. I'm a Raney nut, love and have been profoundly influenced by both his playing and writing. In the 50s I don't think anyone could touch him. He picked up on Bird and definitely developed his own thing in pretty short order. He probably scared a lot of respectable horn players! Listen to the quintet with Getz. Not only does he take no backseat, he really keeps his front-line partner on his toes. Plus the blend they got! Magical. Everyone knows (or should) the Storyville stuff, but also check out Birdland Sessions 1952. Stan was like a raw flame on that, with Jimmy right behind him! Incredible! Why they tried to package him as 'cool' I'll never get. Even before "Early Autumn" he was red hot on his first teenage leadrer dates where he copied Dexter. But you caught me with pants down and practically off on this one. I don't know how it slipped under my radar but remediation is imminent and will be immediate. And thanks again. I have one question, though, for fellow Raney-ites: What do you know of the current availability of a date called Jimmy Raney in Three Attitudes, which I believe may have been released on ABC with the 'attitudes' therein Brookmeyer, Al Cohn, and I can't remember who else---in fact I couldn't even swear it was Cohn. Brook I'm pretty sure of, though. I remember one tune, 'Up in Quincy's Room". I don't remember even hearing the record. A guy who once owned a record store put it aside for me and I totally f-d up by never coming to claim it, one of my more moronic lapses. I saw it again for $50 around ten years ago at a place called Footlights records on 14th st. here in NYC. Was it ever reissued? Any other info? I'm dying to obtain this. Finally, if you want to hear Raney at his peak, and in the company of Brook in very good form (along with new NYC arrivsl Jim Hall) run, don't walk to get David X. Young's Jazz Loft. It came out around 5 years ago. 2 CDs and many reprints of Ypung's great and original paintings. He owned a building in the Flower District and had a loft where many cats would come by nightly to juice and jam. Cats like Zoot, Bill Evans, Pepper Adams, sometimes Monk (Hall Overton, his one-time collaborator, had a rehearsal space in the building) and Sonny Rollins. Anyway, Raney stretches out magnificently especially on "Spuds" (an "Idaho" head).Maybe 20 choruses in a perfect arc. It's really something to hear.

Wow.

I don't know the brother's name but my friend, the nephew, that I grew up in Canarsie with was Alan Schildkraut. He goes by Alan Childs. And I may as well give the Dave Schildkraut story, since I teased y'all: I was sitting in a library on Cortelyou Road in Flatbush, Brooklyn in winter 1989. It was at one of those long, roundish tables they have. I noticed this white-headed and long-white-bearded sylph of a guy sitting. He looked to me like he was at the head of a round dais with me near the other end and a circle of black kids doing schoolwork on either side of him. He was talking to them---while they were doing their best to ignore him and some were laughing at him. Understandable, because this guy just started talking to them unasked. He was giving advice and just riffing, and he looked like a skinny incarnation of the R. Crumb character Mr. Natural. Or a street person, kind of funkily dressed and, well, 'aromatic'. He did have a shopping bag, actually. Finally the guy spotted me reading a bio on Lester Young I dug up from the young adult section---and he started in on me. After he started talking about the big bands he played with, including I think Woody's, my curiosity finally became piqued. "What's your name?" "Dave Schildkraut". "You're Davey Schildkraut? I grew up with your nephew. I've known about you since I was a teenager." Naturally the conversation got warmer and more familial from there. I remember he had a funny, ironic way of self-expression, like when well after he saw the Pres book and after I told a little about myself he said "so, in other words, uh, you like the jazz?" We went on to speak about the music business. When I asked him about musicians that were on the scene then, like Tom Harrell, he said "I read about him. In the Downbeat". A question about what he thought of Wynton's work as compared to the great trumpet players around in his day brought something like "it's really not the same thing". He generally seemed a little nutty, but in a totally friendly way and not at all hard to follow; a little sad, too, but also very much at peace. No anger or self-pity. I had heard before this that his adult daughter fell down a flight of stairs and died. Supposedly he quit the music business soon thereafter and got a civil service job. I guess he was retired by the time I met him that day. When it was time to go I offered him a ride, dropped him off in Coney Island, told him it was great to meet him, and said goodbye. That was the first and last time I met Davey Schildkraut.

Yes, it's the bass player and I wiil say hi for you. It's very funny you mention Davey Schildkraut. I grew up with his nephew, who is a road-rat rock drummer that's played with all the big names in his field. And I met his uncle in a public library in Brooklyn, of all places. One day I'll tell the story. It's a touching one. He was a great musician, though. He had sadness in his life and gave up playing. He lived in Coney Island and was forgotten, except by the guys who remembered, the musicians. Typical. But I remember the things said at the union floor. Things like 'the best musician to ever come out of local 802...Thanks for reminding me. One of the richest parts of being in music to me has been meeting the people that make it. To be clear, I wasn't trying to put Terrason down or say he was shallow or anything else unflattering, just giving my opinion of that particular arrangement, which I only heard once anyway. I'm a musician, and I know how hard it is to do this at all, let alone be good. And if I did have anything less than complimentary to say--about the artist, not the music on a recording, etc.---I sure as hell wouldn't do it publicly. My opinion of people who do that is not very high---including myself when I formerly did do that. He's definitely good, and maybe better than that.

Well, if no one wants to talk about the music I guess I will. Sorry guys, but if we're gonna talk about hair let's make it worthwhile at least, as in Jaki Byard, for one ( Just a joke, I played with Jaki's Apollo Stompers for 1 1/2 years and he was really quite heavy. Really. The only genius I've yet met in music except Tom Harrell but I only talked to Harrell a few times, never had the pleasure of playing. Anyway, I said met). I paid a little attention to Jacky when a good friend of mine played in his band for a few years. This guy, Sean Smith, was on "Smile", so I listened---and liked it, objectively. I liked what he did with "The Dolphin" (a feature for Sean, actually). His ideas sounded good. One of the other arrangements sounded a little too cute and contrived for my tastes, but that's me. But he seems an interesting player. As a qualifier, the only time I've heard him live was when he broke in playing with Art Taylor's Wailers. This would've been in the late 80s-early 90s, ca. It was a young band except for Art. That happens a lot with older leaders, for a lot of reasons. Anyway, they were all young but they sounded good already. I don't remember anything about Jacky specifically except that I liked him, his energy and creativity, and told my friend that I was with so. He doesn't seem like much of a comper, which is annoying to me and would make him an incomplete musician in my ears. But, to be fair, most of the younger piano players didn't have the experience to play with good singers, especially the old-school types who would read their asses out if they didn't know the tunes in their keys, didn't listen, couldn't play an intro, were too leading, etc. Or for sure most didn't have an inside track on the song form like Bill Charlap, who had as parents a band singer and show music composer, and both excellent ones to boot. But it's a different scene today and a lot of the core values seem to be dying and replaced by----what? Not anything better, to me. OK, I'm starting to editorialize and----- I'm out.

I assume y'all mean the guitar player and son of Gerald Wilson. I wish I could contribute more than the scant bit that follows, but anyway: Every once in a great while when I have the car radio on something unusual or special cuts through the noise outside or in my head and perks my ears up. I can't remember the title of the piece but it was Anthony Wilson featured with a big band and I remember that it was his date---and that's it. Don't know if Dad wrote the piece, probably not. But the combination of the interaction between Wilson and the band---the writing, and his soloing---was electric and exciting. I seem to remember him trading with the sections at one point and his ideas were so consistent with what they had played right before that his parts might have been written. But it seemed spontaneous, like he was just soloing and flowing, and just one of those magical times where everything comes together. Or my memory could be completely out to lunch...... If anyone thinks they know what this was or even would hazard a guess based on such admittedly lousy information please write something or PM me. I really would love to hear this again. Thanks.

Could you tell me which Milt session it is? "Milt Jackson and Big Brass: For Someone I Love" Riverside ca. late 50s/early 60s. Probably available from OJC. Helluva a cast, too.

That is really sickening. I guess the guys didn't see it that way, making it much worse. The only good in this is that, in retrospect, she was a trailblazer as a woman musician. But even that's an insult. I'm a composer. I heard her work. It's outstanding. Period. I can't remember the classical piece she arranged in particular or for which band that knocked me out, but, geez did she know what she was doing. Really superb control of the orchestra and her ideas, and tailored for the band/artist---no Melba Liston in your face. I have the date she wrote for Bags around. I think I'll break it out again soon. Thanks for starting this thread.

I hear that. Good for him. Trying to get to that place myself, and slowly it's happening. Once you take your eye off the ball it's gone---and so's your ass... It's weird, though: (over) introspection is what leads to the nerves---as well as the artistic goodies. Double-edged sword. Still, if you don't take the inner journey 'outer' no one will ever know about it. It's the difference between communication and playing (even playing great) at home or in a rehearsal band.

Well put.

Talk to any honest, non-loaded musician and they'll tell you some variation or degree of the same. Every sensitive person, performer or no, suffers from nerves. Some do a better job of losing it or even 'using' it thsn others.

Crawford didn't invent them, but I think no other guitarist did them as well. They always fit the chord changes, and the rhythmic variations are as hip as any master bongocero would do them. In fact, they're hard to play on bongos as they fit the technical possibilities of guitar picking so well. He grooved like a great percussionist. p.s.: I cherish Crawford's LP on Candid, Smooth Groove ..... I'm a guitarist, BTW, so I know who did what on my instrument. It's sort of my job. Herb Ellis has done that bongo thing, as has Tal, and probably a lot of cats without big names. I've heard Eddie Diehl do it once in a while. It's pretty easy: you tap the strings with one or both hands near the pickup. Of course, your time better be happening, or it's your ass.... Yeah, Ray is a good player. I liked him with Ahmad and also Gil Evans on that feature on La Nevada. He made a solo LP in the 80s on Dobre called, I think, H. Ray Crawford---anyway using that name. I dig it out once in a while, but honestly don't think it's up to his other stuff. It is nice, though. Also I have lying around somewhere a cassette of him on a date with Jimmy Smith. Title, anyone? And he's still around. Another jazz soldier survivor! Right on, brother Ray. Right on.....

As a person that struggles with anxiety that can trip up relaxation and being 'in the zone' when performing--letting it flow---this is on my mind a lot. People that perform (or do a host of other things) in public use 'enhancers' for many reasons. Obviously the first one that comes to mind to most that might give this thought is that people know they can't tap into those creative goodies if they're uptight. But there's all kinds of uptight, right? Some dread criticism, some are shy and withdrawn, or unconfident. Then there are people---called dope fiends back in the day--- that just like to get high, period, and like to be with other people who are high too. There are as many variations, reasons, and excuses as there are personality types. I didn't know Warne beyond that one memorable day we hooked up, so I'll forego the armchair analysis, other than to say he seemed the inward, introspective type. But, hell, you would know better than me, so I'll leave that one the hell alone. In my own case the devil is anxiety. Nerves are the enemy of music. If I get uptight I can't hear, think other players may be talking shit about me on the stand, and a host of other things I wont bore you all with, this not being a discussion of me. But I think your observation about being preprared vis a vis practicing and knowing the material beforehand is of course very true. You practice to eliminate the physical difficulties of control on the instrument, to learn tunes, to get into new areas, to stay mentally alert, etc. But you can also practice relaxing. Not only playing relaxed, but it seems to me a lot of people, myself included, deny themselves and the audience by not practicing mental/physical/spiritual relaxation. When you do this you can do what Bird said: "learn your instrument, then forget all that shit and play", which I take to mean in part be and play in the moment and not just what you shedded. 'Now's the Time', right? I don't want to get too heavy with this either, but I think performers who find a way to shut off the bullshit---the dross in their minds--- and listen to and tap into the music, not only in their own little self-absorbed worlds of 'self-expression', but on the stand and all around them and practice stand the best chance of being not only artists but communicators and people who make the world a better place by performing. And I think whatever struggles your dad in particular might have had with this stuff, the fruits of inner investigation, thought/reflection, practice, and emotion really came out in his work. I don't want to end by starting a debate here, but emotion comes in all shades. Some people, like the Warne Marshes or Jim Halls of the world, are more subtle and don't, can't, or best of all won't beat you over the head with it. I enjoy the better of the 'head beaters'' too, BTW, (but really cherish mature players who can hold back, relax, and especially leave you wanting a little more). Everything in its time and space.

Yes. Yes. YES. I just brought this up on another board (actually in the course of discussing a great 70s album by Ahmad, "The Awakening" with his third trio). Thanks for bringing this to folks' attention, Mike. Ahmad's particular genius and touch is best served by simpatico players who listen and support. (it's called being a, a, damn what is that again? Oh, a musician...) These three are so balanced and in tune with each other. And they make the material, some of which would be tepid novelty numbers in lesser hands (Rica Pulpa? C'mon...) come beautifully alive. These guys shadow each other's thoughts and they play---and swing---so quietly!. And as to your comment re Ray Crawford, bravo. He was always a soloist with guts and flair, and a bit more aggressive, even more nervous, than Ahmad---making a nice foil. And his percussive effects don't sound hokey. They hold up. His accents on four/'and of four' are pretty hip and cast a long shadow (Philly Joe w/Miles, anyone?). This trio? Unadulterated genius. Good call.

I meant life. I just remember sitting around my friend Jared's apartment and him breaking out a pipe and some reefer and sort of letting it rip verbally. One thing I remember him saying is that men go off and start wars and kill each other because they're jealous of (and to compensate for) women being able to create life by having babies. Hardly the only person to have made that observation, undoubtedly, but it sort of cracked me up at the time. I thought, here's a thinking cat! That's all I can remember of the conversation at the time, but we were sort of shooting the shit and mostly listening to him. I remember more about the tunes we played. I remember one was Wes Montgomery's Twisted Blues, of all things. That wasn't Warne's call, I believe it was Jared's. We both knew it and Warne read it, so he didn't play as strong on that one as the ones he knew. His playing on those knocked everyone on their asses.