Christiern

That may seem like nit-picking, but when you wish to be regarded as an authority in a field, it behooves you to not make such mistakes--especially so when a simple search could have avoided it. In a review of his book, "Black Talk," I once pointed out that Ben Sidran had made many inexcusable errors, such as mistaking a tenor sax for an alto. Nit-pick? Perhaps, but it is not something I would have pointed out had the author been a sausage maker with a fondness for jazz.

Someone will unearth Ken Burns' 36-hour tribute to Wynton Marsalis and it will start a debate that results in a resurgence of reissued music cards.

I read somewhere (Gourse?) that Jimmy Smith often played the Leno Music Inn. I am told that organists will use any extremity if it produces the desired effect.

Carl Jefferson owned a very successful car dealership in Concord, CA. Driven by his love for the music, he produced a festival in Concord. It, too, was successful, so he managed to have the town build a permanent stage for the Concord Jazz Festival. That led to recording. I don't recall the details--perhaps someone else can post them--but Carl had agreements with his artists that favored them. Of course he had his own taste in jazz and, of course, it was reflected in the Concord releases, but we should not hold that against him. All I know is that he put out a great number of fine albums and gave work to many artists. Whether they are "lame" really depends on one's yardstick--the bottom line is that they added many enduring performances to the jazz and borderline jazz catalogs.

If you weren't alive when Carl Jefferson established the Concord label, you were born after 1973, which may partly excuse you for having it all wrong. Carl's going into the record business had a lot to do with his love for the music and nothing to do with the avant garde loft scene. I suggest that you read up on it before you again point the finger at the wrong people.

Vanity Fair has timely, well-written articles, but the magazine is mostly adverts and clashing scents. Tina Brown, who did her best to wreck The New Yorker also had a go at Vanity Fair.

Miles' music for "Ascenseur pour l'échafaud" is certainly among my favorite soundtracks. I agree that Melvin Peeples' "Sweetass" is far less interesting than the history behind it is. As for the music, don't ever be fooled by a Peeples credit. I also liked Maurice Jarre's music for the 1965 film, "The Collector"--nothing spectacular, but it was wonderfully seamless with the film, and it stayed with me for a long time.

Misguided label destroyers, yes, but "racists"? Kindly explain.

I think the problem here is that you took my statement to be a personal attack or a criticism of your poll. NOT! I said "Good music is beyond category and I think people who close their ears to a broad spectrum of music short-change themselves." You may not agree with that, but you should not twist it into something it never was: an insulting assertion. That, Dan, is an interpretation without "basis in logic." I guess I find the notion of picking first and second favorite genres to be limiting.

Also, the music is not evolving in the way that it used to. There was a time when musicians--often of disparate idiomatic persuasions--jammed in informal sessions. Ideas were exchanged in a very natural way and new directions took form. Today, we have a Lincoln Center cryogenic approach that goes nowhere, slowly, and we have fusioneers flirting with European music to produce something that often is pleasant, even intellectually stimulating, but so far from the rich jazz soil that it leaves fingers unsnapped and toes untapped. Not saying that the music has to set the body in motion, but I think that was a major part of the appeal that established jazz and made it such a universal form of expression. When it gets to the point where we begin discussing reissues of reissues, we have stepped onto the treadmill that starves discussion. Just my 2¢

Bear in mind, Aggie, that many read, fewer post.

I have spent most of my life absorbing and advocating jazz and blues, but I get as much from listening to, say, Lotte Lenya singing Weill, Landowska playing Scarlatti, Carlos Gardel singing anything, or Hank Williams' "Cheatin' Heart." Ditto the music of Bali, the Carter family, Aretha, Kathleen Ferrier, or a sermon by the Reverend Gates. Good music is beyond category and I think people who close their ears to a broad spectrum of music short-change themselves. Obviously, I voted for the last item in Dan's poll.

It does not bother me if a member spends most of her/his time in any particular forum, even if it is a non-music soapbox. I have spent a considerable time in the political forum, but it has not diluted my interest in the music. We are not all equally into jazz--or music, for that matter--but we probably all should be, to some degree, into politics. It is, after all, something that affects everyone, and, perhaps, more so now than in any of our earlier years on this planet.

Most of the time, I think in English, but when I am working on St. Croix slave records (which I do for a few hours, daily), I think in Danish (the matriculs are written in Danish). When in Denmark, I find myself thinking in the native language, but I hardly ever think in my other native language, Icelandic, even when I'm there (which is not often). Give me a few days in England and I find myself using British inflections and pronunciations. BTW, even extended stays in Ebonia have not morphed my thoughts into that manner of speaking, but it is not uncommon for black Americans to "adjust" their language to the environment. Jamaicans certainly do that, and I suppose that is also natural to other regions where dialect borders on being a separate language. As tiny as Denmark is, Danish comes in many variations and some areas of the country has people speaking a variation of the language that is not understood by Danes in surrounding areas. Iceland, on the other hand, has no linguistic variations--everyone speaks the same, which turned out to be a problem when "My Fair Lady" was staged in Reykjavík. They ended up giving Ms. Doolittle a Danish accent. For obvious reasons, it didn't really work.

Here's wishing you a HAPPY 49, with many, many more to come.

I hate to take this thread off track, but has anyone listened to Dudley Fosdick lately?

I hear a lot--well, some--talk about "jazz" on this board. What is it? Does Dumbledora like it?

Kofsky was indeed a nut job. Read his rants only with a salt mine in the vicinity.

Countless celebrities have availed themselves of my bathroom facility over the past 44 years--should I auction off my toilet?

My heartfelt thanks go to all who wished me well on my 76th. We have our differences and things sometimes get heated beyond reason but, in the end, the Organissimo community always extends its arms and shows its positive side. Love the group, too.

It's time to return, Leeway. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

A big THANK YOU to everyone.

Wasn't "Music, Music, Music" her first hit? I seem to recall buying it in Copenhagen (on the London label) before 1952, but I may be wrong. Bob Thiele introduced me to her at a party following Woody Herman's great anniversary concert at Carnegie Hall. She loved Bessie Smith's recordings and eventually did a tribute album for which they used my book as part of the promotion. Apart from that, I found Ms. Brewer to be a very warm, unaffected person. Sorry to hear that she had been ill. Just checked and I remembered correctly, "Music, Music, Music" was her biggest hit and it came out in 1950.

Here are 3 somewhat unusual discs that have been with me for a long time, but will never wear out my turntable. This one is a single-sided vinyl pressing of mysterious origin--the music is painfully bad: This one contains Army recruitment spots. I was told to call the interviewer "Hugh" and that these were interviews promoting achievements. Imagine my surprise when I heard Hugh Downs' voice substituted for the original interviewer, and my anger when I saw that these were U.S. Army recruitment spots--I was, after all, the General Manager of WBAI, a Pacifist station! And this one, well, it's Billy Dee Williams' stab at cabaret singing--a Don Schlitten production on the Prestige label:

It was fifty years ago today that I arrived at Idlewild (now JFK) as an immigrant (legal). I had $75 in my pocket (minimum required) and I felt the kind of excitement that one feels upon reaching a long-desired goal. I came via a PanAm flight from Iceland, so this was no Ellis Island kind of arrival, but I faced the same uncertain future and expectations that my Uncle George had faced when he processed through Ellis in 1925. I did not have a job lined up, not even contacts, and no residence to go to, but my decision to take this major step was fueled by optimism and an abiding, almost obsessive interest in jazz and blues. I had lived here before, for close to 3 years during WWII (1941-44). I don't recall hearing any jazz or blues during that stay, but that experience (which, as far as my personal situation was concerned, turned out to be a nightmare) left me with a yearning to return. I was a day away from my 27th birthday when I came back, so I wasn't a complete novice when it came to fending for myself, but it was easier to do so in Copenhagen and Reykjavík, where family and friends were within walking distance. New York City was very different, the pace was faster, the shoulders seemed colder, and--most significantly--many things were done differently. For example, I soon discovered that papers submitted in response to a NYT want ad were never returned, so--not having the funds or wherewithal to have copies made, it wasn't long before I found myself without any proof of past employment or skills. To make a long story very much shorter, I had $10 left (only because my grandfather, sensing my situation, had sent me $100) and I took it to Greyhound (then on 50th Street), asking the ticket agent if it was enough to get me to another big city. "Three bucks will take you Philadelphia," he said. About three hours later, I was in Philly, with seven dollars in my pocket. Five of that went for a week's rent in a very clean center city rooming house that happened to be near a Horn & Hardart day-old shop. The bread still tasted fresh and it sustained me as I made the rounds looking for any job I could get. I no longer had any letters of recommendation nor samples of my art work (I had been a commercial artist), so--having spent the past year as a disc jockey for the U.S. Armed Forces station in Iceland--I focused on a radio job. Before my week's rent ran out, I had been hired as a producer and writer for WCAU, the CBS affiliate that was the city's largest broadcasting station. I soon learned what role a radio producer played and managed to assume it without my boss recognizing my lack of experience as such. From WCAU I went to WHAT-FM, a 24-7 jazz station, as a dj, then back to New York and Riverside Records--with a lot of help from Nat Hentoff, who only knew me because he had read a favorable review of my WHAT show, written by John Szwed (whom I have yet to meet). Riverside led to Prestige, WBAI, the BBC, Columbia Records, Stereo Review, a weekly TV show, etc.--most of the time, I have little more and sometimes even less than $75 to my name, but I have a wealth of friends, good health, a pleasant apartment (for 44 years), and positive fruits of labor to leave behind when I go. Looking back, I would have done some things differently--for instance, I should have been more practical, perhaps then I would be receiving an occasional royalty payment --but I have so much that money cannot buy. This is still a great country and I love it, but it is not the country I came to fifty years ago--of course it isn't, neither have the countries I left remained unchanged. What troubles me is that too many changes have not been for the good, but my optimism is intact when it comes to that. At 76, I doubt if I will live or have my wits about me long enough to see my country and its positive image restored, but I hope that I will at least see it get back on track. Denmark being a small country, I might have had a more financially rewarding career had I stayed there, but America has been good to me and I love my decision to return in 1957, just as I continue to value having become a citizen six years later.