Christiern

So, if Stevie Wonder runs his fingers over your face, he will be able to give Gail a call? Just think of it, one razor bump can result in a wrong number!

On the breast of a woman named Gail. was tattooed the price of her tail. And on her behind, for the sake of the blind, was the same information in braille. The above has no bearing on the subject of this thread, but it is the genesis of a one-poster conspiracy to derail it.

It was Red Skelton talking about Harry Cohn. Correct, Randy and Larry, it was Skelton. It also was Cohn's funeral, not a memorial service. Guess I need to replace some memory chips.

Reminds me of a Groucho Marx line. When Columbia Pictures' Harry Cohen (think I have the name right)died, the studio held a memorial on one of its large sound stages and told everybody to be there. The place was packed and Groucho allegedly remarked, "Give 'em what they want and people will show up."

Do you remember the tambourines? Do you remember the Voices of East Harlem and how they made their entrance? It was actually quite clever--they showed a film of the kids coming out of their respective homes, sauntering down the various street, eventually all merging and running into the subway. Then we saw them on the subway ride, exiting in the Village, entering the Fillmore theatre and, running down the aisle to the stage--that last part turned into real-time and was very effective. Remember that? Were you high when you got to the theater or did you simply inhale the air there?

Thank you, MG. I can see clearer now!

Will anyone miss the thread in which Lois licks Crouch's ass in a futile attempt to attract new members? Sorry--wrong board, but we've all been there.

Ellis Marsalis had something to do with JFK's assassination? Oh, yeah, the Oswald-New Orleans connection!

He probably thought it a mite too traditional.

While I disagreed with Buckley on just about everything political, I have to say that I had some enjoyable, pleasant conversations with him in the mid-Sixties. He was witty and always courteous to me despite the fact I ran a radio station that opposed everything he stood for. He would not appear on the station, but I found that to be a familiar m.o. among conservatives--they loved to talk about how left-wing we were, and condemn us for it, so they turned down opportunities that would belie that notion. Sort of like Bill Dixon, who complained that I was not featuring avant garde jazz, or the "free" jazz he espoused, yet would not accept my offer of airtime. When I mentioned this fact on the air a few times, he felt pressured to accept my offer. I gave him 3 hours and told him he could do with it whatever he wanted. I expected him to play live or recorded music of his liking, but he spent the entire time foaming at the mouth and ranting about how I discriminated against his music--not playing a note. Listeners complained, and rightly so, I think. Frankly, I did not personally care for Bill Dixon's trumpet playing, but that could be said of much of what we aired. I also was enthusiastic about about much of the day's music--in fact, Roswell Rudd wrote and recorded a theme for my own show. Oh, well.

I had just spent about 4 hours at Archie Shepp's apartment (not far from the Fillmore), interviewing him. He was in a very talkative, rebellious mood, so he went on and on to the point where I left his place with a headache in its early, slightly thumping stages. It was New Year's Eve, so the Fillmore handed out cheap metal tambourines to all who entered. Some audience members had brought cheap wine, and it wasn't long before you could get a high by simply inhaling. Soon after the concert got underway, gallon bottles of wine passed from mouth to mouth down one row of seats and up the other, and the more the wine circulated, the louder the metallic chorus of tambourines became. Add to that a system of amplifiers and giant speakers turned up to the max (beyond reason) and you can imagine how my headache felt. It was so excruciating that I would have left if were not for the fact that I was there on assignment (for Down Beat). My worst New Year's Eve ever had been the one in 1954, which I spent alone in a fluorescent-lit cafeteria on an air base in Iceland. This one--Hendrix notwithstanding--topped it. I enjoy the recordings made that night--it was one concert about which I can truly say, you didn't have to be there.

I attended this New Year's Eve concert--it was a nightmare, but the problem was not on stage. Sad that he died so relatively young.

...with twice as many to come!

If you like great cartoons, check out these Oscar winners from 1931 - 2006. And if you think all Danish cartoons hatch terrorism, take a look at "The Danish Poet" (2 parts) at the end of the list. I think it is a great story, beautifully rendered and narrated in English by Liv Ullman.

Good.

We all react to hostility, but we don't all generate (time and again) the hostility we then react to. Do you not understand how racist it is to refer to a black man as "boy"? Did you not learn anything from your experience at AAJ? Did you not learn anything from Damon's civil (and admirably temperate) response to your mean-spirited attack on his music? You admit that you have made mistakes and dumb statements, but I don't see you turning that recognition into something positive.

Has it occurred to you that many of your posts are offensive and infantile? Has it occurred to you that this is not the first BBS to wish you would go away? Do you recall that you yesterday said you were out of here, but you came back? Perhaps the plece for you is the Wynton Marsalis site's forum--oh, that's right, you were already there today. I wonder if you can contain yourself at that holy shrine and, if not, if they'll give you the boot? If you want to know why you are given the cold shoulder here (and elsewhere), try re-reading your own posts--and if it still does not sink in, you might ask any person of moderate intelligence to read for you.

I think Larry's thread starter is about the origin of the term, not the music. Innocuous, jazz-flavored music predates by many years the broadcaster focus groups. Just my thoughts on this--still have 1¢ to go.

Sometimes, to hear a performer is to understand why that experience was not had earlier.

From what I saw on my air conditioner, it looked like about 6" BTW, Randy, I don't want to know what was in the discarded trash bag!

Shadows on the snow looked good this morning...

The way this thread has deteriorated saddens me. We can do better.

Not a test pressing. Riverside and Prestige tests looked like this:

Steve, I'm afraid my Lyttleton recordings were never released, nor was that ever the intention. Some of them were aired over the Danish Radio in 1953, but otherwise they just rest in my tape pile. Jepsen's original discography did include these recordings, although I don't know why: Humphrey Lyttleton and His Orchestra Humphey Lyttleton (trumpet); Wally Fawkes (clarinet); Bruce Turner (alto sax); Johnny Parker (piano); Mickey Ashman (bass); George Hopkinson (drums) Max's Restaurant, 100 Oxford Street, London - March 16, 1953 Revolutionary Blues Texas Moaner Blues Shake It and Break It On Treasure Island Coal Cart Blues Chicago Buzz Mahogany Hall Stomp That Da Da Strain Apex Blues Jive at Five Farewell Blues Mike McKenzie Trio Mike McKenzie (piano and vocal*); Neva Raphaello (vocals **); unknown bass and drums. Same place and date St. Louis Blues Baby Won't You Please Come Home ** How High the Boogie It's Only a Paper Moon * Dr. Jazz ** Humph and Turner play clarinet and Hopkinson, washboard on Chicago Buzz Farewell Blues has a jam session feel with Humph's band joined by Archie Sempel (of the Freddy Randall band) Humph's trumpet is heard on Dr. Jazz and Baby Won't You Please Come Home.

Peter brings up an interesting point by differentiating between intellectual and more earthly appreciation of music. I can identify with that. What I get out of an exhaustive Coltrane solo and a burst of energy from Roy Eldridge are two different things, although I may not enjoy one less than the other. There are times when I want my body set in motion, when I want my feet to tap and my face to smile--Coltrane's music does not fit that bill. On the other hand... This is not to say that the Hot Five is without intellectual appeal, it all needs some of that to command my attention, but shifting moods demand complementary sensory stimulants. Fortunately, that which we often loosely term as jazz offers a sufficiently diversified program to meet most of my emotional demands, but there will also always be a time for that other great stuff.