Christiern

I use Roadrunner cable service, which is a lot faster than the 300 baud I started out with (in the dark ages)--hell, it's better than anything else I have tried. Aggie is right, however, it is way over-priced.

I would think more like Ma Rainey, on a very, very, very bad day.

Storyville's latest release inthe Jubilee Shows series (No's 56 and 61). Right now, Sister Rosetta Tharpe is doing "That's All," not as d, IMO, as her Decca version, but wonderful.

You said it, Chuck. Some albums are released with different titles, even different labels over the years, so there are jazz albums that never were given precious metal certification yet have cumulative sales that exceed the RIAA's requirements. I believe Stan Getz's "Long Island Sound" is one such a release.

How Lowe can we get?

I have that same fond memory, but I also seem to recall that they had Jo cast as the trumpet player and Roy as the drummer. Does that ring a bell. as it were?

I have spent most of the day and evening exploring Apple's new Mac OS X ("Tiger") on my main Mac, and I think I am in love. I recommend that any PC'er who has ever though tof upgrading to Mac take a good look at what this amazing operating system can do. So far, my favorite of the 200 new features is "Spotlight," a program that searches and instantly finds all occurrences of whatever you type in. It finds references deeply buried in texts, it finds names on a map, it finds PDFs, photos, videos...everything. And it neatly sorts it all into lists from which it can be brought up. And that's just a small fraction of extraordinary things this OS will do. Sorry, had to shout about it.

I have also noticed the reduced durability of standard light bulbs. I used to pay close to $20 for energy saving bulbs, but have recently discovered Gteenlite, I buy them at my local Rite-Aid store for only $1.49. BTW, they also have them in dimmable and 3-way versions, as well as in standard bulb shape, They stay cool, give good light, consume little electricity, and last a long time. What more could a light fan ask for?

Storyville's April releases include this Jubilee volume (as well as the next in the Tatum series, and a Tommy Flanagan release). Noble Sissle Orch. Barney Bigard Combo, Sister Roseta Tharpe, Cee Pee Johnson Orchestra, Delta Rhythm Boys, Johnny Mercer Jubilee Shows Vol. 10 (Shows 56 & 61) Introduction & One O’Clock Jump / Skater’s Waltz / Sunday, Monday And Always / C Jam Blues / I Got Rhythm / Hey, Lawdy Mama / Shoo Shoo Baby / That’s All / Boogie Woogie Special / Signoff & Theme: One O’Clock Jump / Introduction & One O’Clock Jump / Sherman Shuffle / That Old Black Magic / Bring Enough Clothes For Three Days / Mop Mop / G.I. Jive / Knock Me A Kiss / Swing Crazy / Signoff & Theme: One O’Clock Jump Recorded in November 1943, these two half-hour radio programs were part of a series made in the 1940’s specifically for the US Armed Forces. This series of recordings represent a cross-section of the best of black entertainment of the 40’s. Featured on this CD are the swing orchestras of Noble Sissle and Cee Pee Johnson, the clarinet combo of Barney Bigard, and the singing of Sister Rosetta Tharpe, The Delta Rhythm Boys and Johnny Mercer. Sister Rosetta Tharpe – one of the leading gospel performers of the time – presents a wonderful blues set where she both sings and plays guitar. The Delta Rhythm Boys were one of the top jazz vocal groups of the 40’s. This CD contains some truly obscure performances. LABEL: The Jubilee Shows CATALOG NUMBER: 501 1010 GENRE: Big band swing, Jazz combos & vocalists BARCODE: 717101101023

Yes, Charlie Christian, but also ... Booker Little

Actor John Mills dies LONDON: One of Britain’s best known and best loved actors, Sir John Mills, died on Saturday aged 97 after a short illness, a member of his staff said. The former song-and-dance man, who starred as Pip in the 1946 classic “Great Expectations” and won an Oscar in 1971 for best supporting actor in the film “Ryan’s Daughter”, was one of the most significant of all British film stars. “Sir John Mills died peacefully at home after a short illness,” a member of his staff confirmed. The actor’s family was travelling to Britain from the United States and was expected to arrive by Monday, the BBC reported. A funeral service would be held for family and friends at St Mary’s Church in his home village in Denham, just outside London, on Wednesday, it added. Mills is survived by his second wife, the playwright Mary Hayley Bell, his son, Jonathan, and daughters Juliette and Hayley, both actresses. The couple wed in 1941 and remained devoted to each other. afp

I agree, Brownian, Horn & Hardart was a great place--kept me alive for awhile. In my very lean early days as an immigrant in New York, I would go to H&H, get a cup of hot water (those cups were super thick), drop in some ketchup, and imagine that it was tomato soup. When I finally made it out of New York and arrived in Philly with $7, I had $2 left over after paying a week's rent on a room. Again, H&H came to the rescue for there was a day-old shop near the rooming house and I lived on cheap (but good) bread for a week, which is the time it took me to land a job as producer at WCAU. They also had the greatest coffee.

April 23, 2005 ABOUT NEW YORK At Howard Johnson's, a Final Few Scoops of Pistachio By DAN BARRY HE longtime manager of the last Howard Johnson's in the city had only a moment to spare. He seemed distracted, even harried, as though he sensed a clamor for menus from all those empty orange-and-brown booths surrounding him. First, he wanted to know something: What is this about? When posed inside the time warp that is the Howard Johnson's, this question takes on greater weight somehow; it is mystically dipped in a metaphysical Frialator before being presented with garnish on a chipped ceramic plate. What is this about? One answer came from the aquarium-like view of Times Square that his restaurant's large windows offered. There, on the other side of the glass, the Broadway parade flowed past, its participants oblivious to the massive HOWARD JOHNSON'S sign above, blinking in neon orange and blue and featuring that familiar trio: Simple Simon, the Pieman, and a salivating dog. People did not stop to read the sun-faded advertisements whose words strive to be Rat Pack cool, yet ache with Perry Como earnestness. It's Happy Hour from 4 to 7, with all drinks just $3.75 - "except for premium brands." May we suggest a decanter of manhattans, or martinis, or daiquiris? Your Host of Broadway Welcomes You. Around the corner, on West 46th Street, another ad promotes the seafood at Howard Johnson's - "A Wish for Fish!" - with an artist's rendition of a clam strip platter that even Simple Simon's slobbering dog would pass up. Oh, and free hors d'oeuvres served from 4 to 9. What is this about? What is this about? For nearly a half-century, this Howard Johnson's has been an orange-and-blue stitch in the crazed Times Square quilt, dispensing clam strips and milkshakes to the wide-eyed masses. In many ways it has served as a mooring for visitors adrift in the asphalt Midtown sea. Here was a Howard Johnson's, nearly identical in ambience and cuisine to the hundreds of others scattered like rainbow sprinkles along the highways of America. Daddy, can we stop? The answer was sometimes yes and sometimes no, but you had to ask. After all, they had 28 flavors of ice cream. Today, only a dozen or so of the restaurants remain. And soon that will be minus the one with the best location of them all, the Howard Johnson's in Times Square. The owners, the Rubinstein family, have signed a contract to sell the four-story, mid-19th-century building to a Jeff Sutton, who has no interest in muscling scoops of ice cream from ice-flecked tubs. "It's unlikely it would be developed as anything but a great retail box," said Mr. Sutton's broker, C. Bradley Mendelson. "And there will be a great signage component." Human nature almost demands that you weep for Howard Johnson's, as it prepares to take its place beside other sentimental Times Square discards: the Horn & Hardart Automat, Hubert's Museum, on and on. But if you were honest, you would admit to liking the thought of Howard Johnson's more than the reality of it. If you went there at all, it was either to affect ironic hipness or to imagine your parents there, in their happy times before you, sipping ice cream sodas after a show. In the encroaching shadows of a late afternoon, Times Square continued its brassy and boisterous assault upon the senses. Over here, teenage girls screamed for a television camera; over there, two men handed out fliers, one for Falun Gong, the other for a strip club. But inside the all-too-quiet Howard Johnson's, Happy Hour ticked away without chuckle or grin. No one sat at the bar in the back, nursing a Rob Roy, or a Rusty Nail, or an Apricot Sour. No one set aside dignity to ask for something called the California: Amaretto, peach schnapps, coconut and pineapple. A man walked in and asked the waitress point-blank, "They're closing this place, right?" Stunned by his forwardness, she could only say, "Yeah." The waiter at the ice cream counter seconded his colleague. "I think it's going to be at the end of the summer," he said, looking through the window at all the people not coming in for a scoop of butter pecan. Happy Hour crept along. A middle-aged woman sat in one booth, alone, eating French fries and staring down 46th Street. In another booth, the tortilla-shell remnants of a long-gone someone's lunch sat untouched for more than an hour. The restaurant's manager appeared, disappeared, reappeared, then asked: What is this about? The imminent closing of this Howard Johnson's, of course. "We know nothing as of now," he said, then hurried off to tend to phantom customers. And you wished him 28 flavors of happiness.

You bring back memories. Thank you, Rostasi.

I heard a lot of Mozart and Beethoven when I was a little kid. When I was 6, I used to sit on the floor with a wind-up portable gramophone and listen to records by Victor Sylvester and his Orchestra, Greta Keller, and that kind of music. When I became old enough to buy my own records, I went for classical, with baroque composers as favorites. My taste in pop music was common: Dinah Shore, Andrews Sisters, Merry Macs, etc., but around 1947-48, when I was 16-17, I happened across a Bessie Smith recording being played on the Danish radio jazz club. My listening habits have not been the same since. Lonson, I just to hang out in a Red Rooster, it was a small, two-steps-down place in Harlem and it was a place frequented by Adam Clayton Powell--could that have been around the corner from where you lived?

Sportscasters not dressing well? Now I've heard everything!

That's good news--they should move all that stuff to dedicated sports cable channels, and I wouldn't mind if the obnoxious, loud-mouthed sports casters disappeared from local news.

I could not find the piece posted by Lois that was so poorly translated. This one is from the Copenhagen newspaper, Politiken. It is written by Boris Rabinowitsch, who was our best modern pianist back in the days when I first became interested in jazz, almost 60 years ago. I haven't seen Boris in decades and I hope my translation does his piece justice. Bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen is Dead With the death of bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen, Denmark has lost one of its most internationally famous musicians. Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen has written numerous tunes and adapted Danish folk melodies. By Boris Rabinowitsch There are moment that remain as if etched in one's memory. Like that December evening 35 years ago when Thad Jones--then leader of the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra, scheduled to give a concert in Copenhagen on the following day--stepped into the old Jazzhus Montmartre in Store Regnegade and suddenly, as if struck by lightning, froze in his steps and stared in amazement at the band stand where a young bassist had just started a solo. A brief whispered conversation between Jones and one of his musicians seemed to clear up the puzzlement, because Jones nodded as if to say, "now I understand." The bass player was the 23-year-old Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen, a musician whose name Jones apparently recognized, but had not heard perform. Even back then, Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen had had more experience than most bassist ever have. That the bass became his instrument is, however, due to happenstance. Began on piano Back home, in Osted, he started out on piano, as did his playmate, Ole Kock Hansen, who also was better at it. Thus when it was decided to start an amateur band, it was suggested that Niels-Henning play bass, because that's what the band needed. Wisely, he approached one of the country's leading teachers, Oscar Hegner, of the Royal Danish Music Conservatory's faculty. Under his tutelage, Niels-Henning quickly developed the talent that already at age 15 would make him, unquestionably, our leading jazz bassist . That same year, 1962, he made his first appearances on records, with, among others, Bud Powell. In 1966, he was elected Danish Jazz Musician of the Year and, in 1968, he placed first in the "Talent Deserving Wider Recognition" category of the American jazz publication, Down Beat's, annual critics poll. In 1990 he also was awarded the Nordisk Råd music prize. Worldwide fame The years spent as house bassist in Store Regnegade [Club Montmartre] set in motion a career that since made Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen one of jazzdom's world-renowned names. Here he met, among other musicians, the likes of Lee Konitz,, but it was especially his long-standing associations with Dexter Gordon, Ben Webster and Kenny Drew--all of whom lived here--that proved to be so enriching. And, of course, NHØP, as one had begun calling him, also had for several years a permanent spot in the Radio's Big Band. NHØP turned down an offer to become a member of Count Basie's orchestra, but in 1973, when Oscar Peterson offered him a job in his trio, he accepted. A strong gentleman who made high demands and expected them to be met, NHØP not only won his respect but also benefitted from his experiences. This stood him in particularly good stead during a period when he toured with Norman Granz's Jazz At The Philharmonic, where there sometimes was friction among the big boys. While experiencing life on the road, NHØP also performed with his own and other leaders' groups, and participated in recording session with such names as Stan Getz, Chet Baker, Toots Thielemans, Dexter Gordon, Philip Catherine, Palle Mikkelborg, Finn Ziegler, Ole Kock Hansen, and many, many others. His and Kenny Drew's version of "In the Deep, Quiet Depth of the Forest" has almost achieved classic status here at home, but it was also a big seller in Japan. And unforgettable for those who experienced it is a Copenhagen concert with Sonny Rollins, Alan Dawson and NHØP, where the big tenor saxophonist almost could not tear himself loose to play. Recordings of this concert exist, but were never officially released, heightening its value among collectors. The Danish roots The prolonged life on the road that for long periods kept NHØP away from his family, eventually made him decide to end his association with Oscar Peterson, a decision not graciously accepted. NHØP now freelanced with other musicians and and groups, as well as working with his own trio, in which his Danish background with time became increasingly prominent. But in recent years, NHØP had also renewed his collaboration with Oscar Peterson, following the pianist's stroke, which paralyzed his left side and made him need the support NHØP and regular trio member, guitarist Ulf Wakenius could give him. With his virtuosity, NHØP set a standard in his time for the pizzicated (pizzicato?) bass style that almost seemed unattainable for others. He was later able to further refine it, but one cannot deny that it cost him some of the spontaneity that originally characterized it. However, that does not alter the fact that NHØP's death has robbed Danish jazz of its most internationally famous representative. Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen died in his home of a heart attack. He was 58.

The administrator of JC posted this on her BBS. It was obviously translated by a Gateway computer--NHØP deserved better. Copenhagen - the Danish jazz bassist Niels Henning Ørsted Pedersen died in the age of 58 years, reported the press agency Ritzau on Wednesday in Copenhagen. On 26 May 1946 as a son of a church musician in the locality Osted born Dane and the technically outstanding bassists in the jazz, leading world-wide, applied for the sixties as one. Pedersen lived with its family in a suburb west of Copenhagen. It played already starting from its 14. Lebensjahr with prominent Danish jazz musicians together and participated in several hundred records as well as CD bringing in. He co-operated thereby with numerous legendary jazz sizes such as OSCAR Peterson, Dexter Gordon, Sonny roll in, Bill Evans, Bud Powell, Dizzy Gillespie, COUNT Basie, Ella Fitzgerald and Joe passport. 1990 were awarded to him the music price of the Nordi advice. For the nineties Pedersen played also in a Trio under own name with the Swedish guitarist Ulf Wakenius as well as changing guest musicians together. Because of its very long name Pedersen in its Danish homeland called itself NHOEP predominantly. In the English-language jazz world it often "The great Dane with the never endings name" ("the large Dane with the endless name") called. Pedersen completed a very intensive concert program with constant journeys abroad over decades.

I use a lot of Verbatim discs, have been doing so for years, and never had one go bad.

Just to put a cap on this thread...

I highly recommend: MeritLine

I looked up other Danish news sites, but no one seems to have mentioned the cause of death. ...and with Svend Asmussen, who is still going strong!

Truly a great loss. The news item Kevin linked to is a summary of his life, but it makes no mention of the cause of death. If anyone want, I'll be glad to translate it, but I expect that we will see obits in English before the day is over.