clandy44

We were in Rehoboth Beach, DE a couple weeks ago, and saw several jazz posters displayed in the window of the Kennedy Gallery. I found out that they were reproductions, but they are nicely detailed from what I imagine the originals looked like. I bought the Basie one (an October 1939 poster advertising the Basie Band at Sweet's Ballroom in Oakland for just one night) for $25 and had them frame it for an extra $95-it looks pretty cool on my study wall. If anyone is interested, call Kate Kennedy and she can send you a sheet showing the posters available. Her number is 302.227.3903. Posters include Duke, Miles, Trane, Monk, Chick Webb, Dizzy, Earl Hines, etc.

Here he is again, this time with an 18 cd sampler. http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewI...&category=43620

This seller seems to have collected lots of Mosaic cds, but no booklets or boxes. A fine sampler-why didn't Michael think of this? http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewI...&category=43620

This is a terrific article, not only for the subject matter but also for the writing ability of the reporter-I don't remember seeing his byline, but I will be keeping an eye out for it in the future.

Despite looking hither and yon, I could not turn up a copy of Benny Carter's Groovin' High in LA. That led me to Hep itself, where I had an enjoyable correspondence with Alastair Robertson. He tells me that that cd is OOP, but he might consider a limited pressing if there was enough interest. If anyone else is interested in this cd, drop him an email-maybe it wouldn't take that many of us to get the pressing done. His email is alarob@hepjazz.co.uk.

The greatest jazz piano player who ever lived, to me. Speed isn't everything, but he reportedly was playing a thousand notes per minute in his prime. Of course, Erroll Garner wins plaudits if only because he couldn't read a note and never took a piano lesson! True genius.

Looks like Giddins agrees with us: Weatherbird by Gary Giddins All Duke's Chillun Got Melody Gerry Mulligan's concert jazz band was short-lived and indelible and not for dancers October 15 - 21, 2003 At long last, Gerry Mulligan's five Concert Jazz Band albums, recorded for Verve between 1960 and 1962, have been collected, though not by Verve. Mosaic (35 Melrose Place, Stamford, CT 06902, 203-327-7111, info@mosaicrecords.com) has done a consummate job with The Complete Verve Gerry Mulligan Concert Band Sessions. These much loved but long-unavailable records have never sounded better—even the muzzy Milan sides gleam. The integrity of the original LPs is preserved, with unreleased takes placed at the end of appropriate discs. From the first measures of Al Cohn's arrangement of "Sweet and Low," you know you are on enchanted ground, and the sense of discovery and triumph never subsides for long, partly because each album's personality is distinct from the others'. Mulligan became an overnight sensation with his piano-less quartet in the early 1950s, but big bands remained his first love and the CJB was his boldest attempt to initiate a venturesome orchestra—its very name warned dancers to go elsewhere. It was to be a workshop ensemble, an expanded version of the Miles Davis nonets (for which Mulligan had scored most of the music), allowing him and other writers to show what a full complement could do. His celebrity, plus the willingness of members to work cheap and Norman Granz's deep pockets, made the undertaking possible. Another crucial component, as Bill Kirchner demonstrates in his illuminating notes, was the steady instigation of Bob Brookmeyer, the Mulligan quartet's valve trombonist and ultimately the CJB's most prolific arranger. Eighteen months after the start-up, Granz sold Verve, dooming the project but for one last hurrah in late 1962, but the CJB's influence was immediate and lasting. The first big band to play the Village Vanguard, it engendered what is now known as the Vanguard Orchestra, unleashing a tide of rehearsal or Monday-night bands. Its method of building orchestral constructs from combo outlines helped Mulligan retain a limber spontaneity; among the many bandleaders who elaborated on the idea were Charles Tolliver (see below), David Murray, and most recently Dave Holland. But Mulligan's band had something no other band could rival—his stubborn, nostalgic, frequently inspired, occasionally cloying passion for melody. Ironically, Mulligan was so preoccupied with the mechanics of bandleading that he wrote nothing for the project beyond an unreleased update of his Kenton classic "Young Blood" and a majestic "Come Rain or Come Shine," recorded twice to feature Zoot Sims and, more successfully, himself. So in addition to Brookmeyer and Cohn, he enlisted Bill Holman, George Russell, Johnny Mandel, and a then unknown Gary McFarland. Mulligan and Brookmeyer were the primary soloists, spelled by Sims, Clark Terry, Gene Quill, Jim Hall, Willie Dennis, the forgotten tenor Jim Rieder, and the group's unsung hero, trumpeter Don Ferrara, whose bursts of invention on "Out of This World," "I'm Gonna Go Fishin'," "Barbara's Theme," and "All About Rosie" place him in the Hasaan category of lost jazz noblemen. A benign Olympian hovers over this material, and it isn't Apollo. The blessings of Duke Ellington are everywhere; no other group of writers paid homage with more candor and creativity. The original notes to the CJB's last LP specified Ellington's impact on those pieces, but it was apparent from the first: symbolically in the first recorded number, "I'm Gonna Go Fishin' " (from Anatomy of a Murder), and wittily in the Ellington-meets-Clyde McCoy passages of "Sweet and Low." Hats are tipped to Evans-Thornhill, Basie, Goodman, and Herman, while Russell's "All About Rosie"—a superior update of the 1957 version—flies in its own orbit. Yet Ellington is invoked constantly, in voicings that include clarinet and in the interplay between soloists and ensemble. There is so much to admire, not least the rhythm sections, especially the team of Mel Lewis and Bill Crow, which emphasize a relaxed capering that reflects Mulligan's easeful swing. The contrast between Mulligan's smoothly gruff lyricism and Brookmeyer's gruffly smooth barking, hissing, chomping solos typifies the good humor that often rises to the top—as in anything by Cohn, notably the matchless double windup of "Lady Chatterley's Mother," or the last bar of Brookmeyer's "You Took Advantage of Me" (a solo sigh that was played by the ensemble at a European concert released on European labels), or Mulligan's whimsical "Emaline" intro to "Come Rain or Come Shine," or his breakaway interpolation of "Blues in the Night" and Brookmeyer's asthmatic entrance on "Sweet and Low," or John Carisi's orchestration of Miles Davis's two choruses on "Israel," to say nothing of Holman's 6/8 arrangement of "I'm Gonna Go Fishin'," which turns it into a rocking counterpart of "All Blues." The On Tour album qualifies as a de facto Zoot Sims concerto and a definition of mercurial wit. Rumors of hours of unreleased material have proved untrue; the Vanguard tapes are apparently lost, and the 11 new alternates and otherwise unreleased items don't add much, except for "Young Blood." Mulligan would undoubtedly be relieved. This is desert island material, returned to life after more than two decades, in a limited pressing of 7,500 copies. Those should sell quickly enough; maybe then Verve (which now offers only the Vanguard set) will return this music to stores. Don't wait.

I'll add a me-too. The Mulligan is really unbelievable for its sound, considering it's 40+ years old. I've only heard disc 1 so far, but it blows away most if not all of the other Mulligan lps and cds I have in terms of its sound, and is a challenger for a top performance in my view. I also have listened to only one of the Patton discs, but glad I picked up the set. Mosaic just seems to be getting better and better-don't have the Johnny Smith yet, but I'm sure it is top notch in all ways. Buying direct from Mosaic is an antidote to buying on ebay where the prices and the seller representations are grossly inflated, and where identity theft is just a key stroke away.

I have the Mosaic Prima but nothing else of his. Needless to say, the Prima music of the 30s was jazz through and through and highly entertaining. If Prima can be accused of mugging too much, so can Fats and many others-none of that criticism bothers me because I have always found it historically and musically interesting. Eventually, I will follow Prima into his 40s and 50s work to see if I admire it as much as his 30s stuff.

I agree with Vajerzy-I listen to this set more than the Capitol one. If you like Duke...well, you know what I'm going to say.

The Crazy Jazz website has a separate list of the Penguin crown cds.

GOM-Speaking of anti-racism songs, don't forget (Why Am I So) Black and Blue? The music and lyrics never fail to sting me. Waller brings a mournful quality to the piece that really resonates.

Geez, Brad, thanks alot. After my recent pigfest in the Mosaic True Blue promotion, I was trying to keep a low buyer's profile for at least a week or two. So long low profile. Nice price and great music. Heads-up like this are what make the board so terrific. Buying this even though I suspect Mosaic will eventually do a more complete Basie Columbia set.

From today's WSJ: A Young Jazzman Turns 85 By KURT NOVAK Flugelhornist Clark Terry blew a short call-to-arms from his seat in the audience, signaling the guest of honor's entrance at the opening of the Hank Jones 85th birthday celebration at the Blue Note last month. It was possibly the greatest gathering of jazz musicians in New York since Art Kane's famous 1958 photograph "A Great Day in Harlem." Throughout the evening, 13 small groups, including a rotating cast of some 35 performers, played tribute to the ageless Mr. Jones, known within the jazz community as a king of the piano. Fully three-quarters of the house, including Oscar Peterson, Stanley Crouch and Ira Gitler, appeared to be admiring musicians and writers. (Mr. Peterson called him "probably the best pianist in jazz today.") But it is not just a lyrical touch and unerring melodic sense that have endeared Mr. Jones to his musical collaborators. His warm personality, sense of humor and love for his craft seem to have been equally important to his long-term success. Eldest of the renowned Jones brothers (including drummer Elvin and the late trumpeter/composer Thad), Hank Jones was born in 1918, grew up in Pontiac, Mich., and moved to New York in 1944 to play with trumpeter Hot Lips Page. Since then, Mr. Jones has worked with practically every major figure in jazz, including Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, Coleman Hawkins, Charlie Parker and Ella Fitzgerald. Along the way Mr. Jones developed a reputation as one of the world's leading accompanists. How does one sustain a 50-year-plus career in a field known for its problematic personalities, inconsistent popular appeal and less than ideal working conditions? "Diversify," he said, in a conversation a few days before the concert. One of the most important lessons he learned is to "be prepared. . . . Arrange your personal affairs so that you don't get caught off guard -- always have something in reserve." For Mr. Jones, this meant not only knowing how to adjust his playing to suit the given situation or soloist -- the essence of jazz -- but developing the ability to read music fluently so he could work in a variety of settings, such as those encountered in his 15-year stint with the CBS Radio & Television orchestra. Mr. Jones noted that he aspires to play with the command of Art Tatum, who "never played a run that wasn't an integral part of his conception of a composition." And, he noted, despite Tatum's advance harmonics and complex rhythms "I am always able to recognize the melody in Tatum's playing." But pure technique is not the only factor to consider in the collaborative art of making improvised jazz music. Mr. Jones liked working with Ella Fitzgerald because "she had an even temperament and always approached performing with energy and enthusiasm. She was eager to learn new material and she was kind and considerate . . . a real sincere individual." He said he also liked playing with saxophonist Coleman Hawkins, "a great player" and another artist with an uncommon ability to adapt. "Hawkins could play with anyone, whether it was swing or bebop with relative newcomers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. It didn't matter what it was -- Hawkins could do it." Another proof of Coleman Hawkins's genius, according to Mr. Jones, was "the perfect jazz record . . . I never get tired of 'Body and Soul.' You can play that over and over, and because of the combination of Hawkins's brilliant playing or the sound of the chords or whatever, you just don't get tired of it." Apparently people don't get tired of Hank Jones either, as witness the hundreds of recordings he has played on, not to mention the camaraderie and good spirits displayed by all of the musicians at the Blue Note tribute. Instrumentalists of various generations played on this powerhouse showcase of talent, organized by Charles Carlini and pianist James Willams. Participants included not only Mr. Terry but Jimmy Heath, Freddie Cole, Lewis Nash, Candido, Rufus Reid, Peter Nash, Ben Riley, Marian McPartland, Barry Harris, Kenny Barron, Ray Barretto, Bill Charlap, Geri Allen and many others. Midway through the evening Mr. Jones himself got on the bandstand, joined by bassist George Mraz and drummer Louis Hayes, and demonstrated to all that he is in full command. Says Mr. Mraz of Hank Jones: "He is one of the youngest piano players I've ever worked with . . . always coming in with new stuff and open to new ideas." Not too bad for a young man of 85.

Article from today's Wall Street Journal: A Japanese Jazz Musician Tackles The Daunting Subject of Hiroshima By NAT HENTOFF In the early 1950s, jazz impresario Norman Granz, returning from a concert tour of Japan, told me of a recording he had made in Tokyo of a 23-year-old pianist, Toshiko Akiyoshi. Oscar Peterson had heard her in a coffee shop and alerted Granz. When she came to Boston in 1956 to study at the Berklee School of Music, I heard Toshiko often. Because she was a fluently secure melodic swinger, more experienced jazzmen welcomed her on gigs. Immersed in jazz since she was a teenager, her dream of being where it all started, she told me, had come true. In the early 1960s, she co-led a combo with her then-husband, alto saxophonist Charlie Mariano, and I recorded her during my short tenure as an A&R man for Candid Records. Jazz was her natural language. Toshiko went on to the demanding graduate school of Charles Mingus's orchestra; and no longer married to Charlie Mariano, she formed an enduring musical and life partnership with the unaccountably underrated tenor saxophonist and flutist Lew Tabackin. A self-challenger, like Toshiko, he too never stops evolving. In Los Angeles in 1973, she formed with him an intriguing orchestra that will celebrate its 30th anniversary at a Carnegie Hall concert on Oct. 17. During all those years, Toshiko had never thought about interweaving Japanese music with her jazz life. What persuaded her to learn more about her roots was -- to my surprise when she said this in a July 2003 Down Beat interview -- an article I had written in the Village Voice when Duke Ellington died. He had often told me that what drove him as a composer and orchestra leader was to tell the history of his people in America, embedded in the black musical and life experiences of the centuries that preceded him. "Reading that triggered me," she told Michael Bourne in Down Beat. "I thought that should be my job -- to employ some of my heritage, to put Japanese culture into jazz." In a number of her compositions -- such as "Drum Conference," commissioned by, and performed at, Jazz at Lincoln Center this year -- she has been doing that job with characteristically singular inventiveness and a sure sense of textural dynamics that make her orchestra the most subtly dramatic in present-day jazz. The climax so far of Toshiko's bringing her heritage into her jazz life is "Hiroshima -- Rising From the Abyss." First performed, and recorded, at Hiroshima on Aug. 24, 2001, it has now been released in this country on the True Life label (available at Amazon.com and many record stores). As she told me, Toshiko had never thought of writing music about the horrifying devastation inflicted on the people of Hiroshima by this country on Aug. 6, 1945, when she was 15. "But at that time," she told writer Michael Bourne, "people tried to avoid speaking about it. Even the victims." In 1999, however, a Buddhist priest, Nakagawa, asked her to write music memorializing that fateful day in his hometown. He sent her photographs taken three days after the bomb. In her notes to the American release of "Beyond the Abyss," she writes that the pictures were so horrifying that she couldn't imagine what music she could bring to them. "But," Toshiko continues, "one photo caught me eye. It was a young woman who came out of a bomb shelter looking at the sky, smiling a little with beautiful eyes full of hope." Seeing those eyes convinced Toshiko she could find in herself the music to honor, among the others, that young woman. Toshiko quotes the Dalai Lama: "We human beings cannot live without hope." On the True Life CD, "From the Abyss" is the centerpiece. There are three sections of this memorial work: "Futility-Tragedy," "Survivor Tales" and "Hope." The entire set's first track, before the main composition, is "Long Yellow Road," and the last track, "Wishing Peace," has so moving a flute solo by Lew Tabackin that, Toshiko tells me, "tears come to my eyes when we perform it." The most haunting, deeply reverberating section, "Survivor Tales," has a Hiroshima high-school student, Ryoko Shigemori, reading from a eyewitness account of the deaths and disfigurements, the "Mother's Diaries" from the Hiroshima Memorial Museum. Along with the reader, commenting on these tales is Wong Jang-Hyun, a master of traditional Korean flute. The high-school student reads: "There was a rumor we would not have vegetation for 75 years. . . But here, trees are growing, grass is greener than ever . . . This is our message to the world from Hiroshima . . . No nuclear and atomic weapons, and peace on earth." The 30th anniversary concert of Toshiko Akiyoshi's orchestra on Oct. 17 at Carnegie Hall will include a performance of "Beyond the Abyss" with Wong Jang-Hyun, together with masters of traditional Japanese drums. It will be the orchestra's final appearance. "I'm 73 now," Toshiko told me. "I started as a pianist, and I believe I can play better, that I can improve myself. So I will go back to the piano with a small group." Over half a century, Toshiko, in her music and in her life, has exemplified the resilient life force of jazz, and of the message of hope from Hiroshima in "Survivor Tales."

Red Trumpet has an excellent reputation, based on comments from a friend who is a first class audiophile. About a year ago, I was in the market for a tt and I talked to them-they were super nice and went out of their way to help diagnose a problem with my old tt. Eventually, I narrowed my choices to the MH 5 and the Rega P3. I took my time, checked new prices and looked on Audiogon-I found a 1-year old P3 for $550 all-in and went for it. I think the P3 is excellent (easy to set up and no problems), but my research suggests the 5 is too. And, I think $439 is a good price for the 5 new.

As the pr types are wont to say, just the kind resuscitation project that has made Mosaic its rep. The music is terrific and the collection can not be pieced together by what is available today. The HRS sides are still better in my view, but I would strongly recommend this set.

A thoughtful, if belated, obituary of Bill Perkins. Most surprising is that he held an engineering degree from C.I.T., one of the country's most prestigious colleges and certainly every bit as competitive as M.I.T. Jazz Saxophonist Bill Perkins, 79 By Adam Bernstein Washington Post Staff Writer Thursday, August 14, 2003; Page B06 Bill Perkins, 79, a saxophonist who was taken with the "palm tree gentleness" of West Coast jazz in the 1950s and later became a member of the Doc Severinsen "Tonight Show" band, died Aug. 9 at his home in Sherman Oaks, Calif., of complications from cancer. Retiring in personality and delicate on his horn, Mr. Perkins was one of those musicians always being described in the music press as chronically underrated. "I'm a born follower," he said. But he followed in some of the most technically dazzling big bands of the 1950s and early 1960s, including Woody Herman's Third Herd, Stan Kenton's progressive outfit and Terry Gibbs's Dream Band. Mr. Perkins, a worshiper of sensual saxophonist Lester Young, emulated him on ballads such as "Blues for Brando," recorded with trumpeter Shorty Rogers in 1954, and as a featured soloist on "Yesterdays" on the Kenton album "Contemporary Concepts" (1955). Starting in the 1960s, he used his early training as an engineer to get sound-production work. He also held instrument patents, including a synthesized saxophone and trumpet. William Reese Perkins Jr. was born in San Francisco and as a child accompanied his father, a copper mining engineer, to Chile. His companion was the Victrola, and after his father's death his mind was set on engineering and making music. He grew up with his mother in Santa Barbara and later received an electrical engineering degree from the California Institute of Technology and a music degree from the University of California at Santa Barbara. Originally trained on clarinet, he switched to saxophone at 15. During his career, he mastered a variety of woodwind and reed instruments. While with Jerry Wald's band in 1951, he received a call from Herman's manager asking if he could fill in for his main sax player, who had been fired. After first sloughing it off as a practical joke, Mr. Perkins accepted and soon he was dazzling the leader with a tenor solo on the standard "Perdido." Besides steady jobs with Herman and Kenton, he also performed on acclaimed albums with pianist John Lewis ("Two Degrees East, Three Degrees West") and saxman Art Pepper ("Art Pepper Plus Eleven"). Among his studio work was playing in a band led by Duke Ellington to record the soundtrack for the Frank Sinatra film "Assault on a Queen" (1966). "I think I took the studio work too seriously," he told interviewer Steve Voce in the mid-1980s. "I'd go to each job with the attitude that it was supposed to be a work of art, and I'd wind up going home almost on the point of tears because I thought I'd played badly. But, as my dear friend [saxophonist] Ernie Watts pointed out, it's not art, it's craft at best, and if you look at it that way it won't be so painful to you." Starting in the early 1970s, he spent two decades with Severinsen's band. He also toured widely with saxman and arranger Bill Holman, his colleague from the Kenton group. © 2003 The Washington Post Company

I have it. My unadorned advice: buy it. Period. Full stop.

The Coltrane followed by the Evans. Miles' work in the 50s and early 60s remains my favorite. After 1968, who is that and what is it that he is playing?

Vajerzy-those are access cards, which DirectTV changes every few years. It's supposed to be a security thing. I just changed mine, not without some inconvenience since one of the new cards they sent me didn't work and I couldn't use that tv for a couple of days. On the other hand, at least these guys answer their phone, treat me courteously (unlike the cable jerks) and gave me a credit for lost viewing time.

It was a top ten day in my life when I threw the cable guys outta the house and flipped on DirectTV. Only drawback are weather interruptions, either heavy rain or snow. With cable, we would lose the signal for over 24 hours when a storm hit. That got old fast. Plus, did you ever try to speak to someone at the cable company? Nuff said.

It was a top ten day in my life when I threw the cable guys outta the house and flipped on DirectTV. Only drawback are weather interruptions, either heavy rain or snow. With cable, we would lose the signal for over 24 hours when a storm hit. That got old fast. Plus, did you ever try to speak to someone at the cable company? Nuff said.

Addendum-how about a Benny Carter Mosaic?

What others have said, especially Akiyoshi/Tabackin. Other suggestions: --Clarke-Boland, much of whose work is scattered all over the place and not readily available --Cannonball's Capitol recordings-not all of them, just the cream (with nancy Wilson, etc) --Tubby Hayes-it's about time Mosaic gave him some love --Willie Smith (the altoist, not the "Lion")-unfortunately, not enough material. Listen to him on Jazz Scene and you know you have heard an immensely talented guy with an unique sound. I have other wishes, but not for this board. No ,not those, Weizen...