Christiern

I know what that means, but I ain't talkin'! As for Sandke's playing, I like it.

As far as I know, Albert Murray is still breathing, bit he looked dead when I last saw him, at Ira Gitler's 80th birthday party. Of course, that stony face could have been caused by the presence of Stanley Crouch. They were no longer on speaking terms. As for Murray's thoughts on the music, I have never taken him seriously, because his bias was showing. He is also in large measure responsible for much of the crap Wynton and Stanley drool. Not having read Sandke's book, I will wait to comment on that, but I agree that complexion too often dictates musical taste—on both sides of the ancestral spectrum. Granted, the most influential musicians (in terms of changing directions) have been black, but great performers come in more than one color. I gather that Sandke feels white musicians have in some way been slighted. By critics, perhaps, but only those of a lower order.

The litany of past musical associates is kinda meaningless. It's not so much who you played with as it is how well you did. Members of local club bands may be unimpressive musicians, but their resumés are a who's who of the biggies they did BG for. Not saying that Grimes falls into that category—he doesn't, but it is something to think about.

The only thing "super" about the Super Bowl telecasts is, imho the occasional imaginative commercial. Now these ads can be seen online, severely reducing the value of the over-hyped game itself. Yes, yes, I know there are sports fanatics in every corner of the world, but...

"This moment will be for HuffPost like stepping off a fast-moving train and onto a supersonic jet." ARIANNA HUFFINGTON, on the $315 million buyout of the Huffington Post website by AOL

From The Washington Post: AOL says it's buying highly trafficked news Web site Huffington Post for $315 million in a deal that will put co-founder Ariana Huffington in charge of all AOL content.

Congratulations, Mark. I actually thought Down Beat was dead and buried.

A slightly different approach on this one, which I received today.I was tempted to write back and instruct Farida to give all the money to Gershon. Instead, I did my usual thing and reported it. Reminds me of a time when I took Ida Cox to Basie's dressing room at the Apollo. He did a double take and asked, "Ida! Didn't you die?" Re: Payment Notification: We are writhing to know if it's true that you are DEAD? Because we received a notification from one MR. GERSHON SHAPIRO of USA stating that you are DEAD and that you have giving him the right to claim your funds. He stated you died on a CAR accident. He has been calling us regarding this issue, but we cannot proceed with him until we confirm this by not hearing from you after 7days. Be advised that we have made all arrangements for you to receive and confirm your funds without anymore stress, and without any further delays. All we need to confirm now is your been DEAD Or still Alive. Because this MAN'S message brought shock to our minds. And we just can't proceed with him until we confirm if this is a reality OR not But if it happened we did not hear from you after 7days, then we say: MAY YOUR SOUL REST IN PERFECT PEACE" YOUR JOY AND SUCCESS REMAINS OUR GOAL. May the peace of the Lord be with you wherever you may be now. Your Faitfully, Mrs Farida Waziri

What's the big deal? Why pay such a relatively high price for a pressing that probably has inferior sound (compared to a good reissue, for example), and comes without cover and notes? Is a hand-written label more important than the music? I have quite a few test pressings, but none of them have a better sound than the issued product. Guess one has to have that collector mania. What do you say, Chuck N.?

It began when lawyers and accountants replaced music people. Soon the bottom line (sizeable, in those days) blinded them, but it could never be big enough, so they fumbled around to pump it up. Damn! Expenses were getting in the way, so they looked around this strange new field, which was still new to them, and saw the magic word: reissues! They really went to town with that until it maxed. Or did it? Now the original reissues were ready to be reissued! They maxed the reissued reissues, too. What to do? Reissue the reissued reissues, but shuffle them! Hey, it worked, so they threw in some bones stuff that musicians never got paid for and didn't want anybody to hear. Hey! that also worked! Now everybody had six copies of everything and consumers were waking up to that fact. Gore invented the Internet so housewives and teeny-coppers could go to town bringing all those reissued reissues home for free. The FBI and, perhaps, even the CIA took a dim view of this, but none as dim as that taken by the RIAA, defender of the industry. Sons of lawyers who had set the wrecking ball in motion could now swing on it seek millions of dollars to satisfy a new kind of arson: disc burning. It looked as if everything was maxing out favorably, but the blindness caused by throbbing, expanding bottom lines had led to deafness. Well, that affliction had ben there all along, but no one had noticed. No one, except the public. Someone out there—we don't know who—had a Hand Christian Andersen moment and, struck by acute clarity, exclaimed "The music died!" Indeed it had, and the evidence was nowhere more convincing than on the Grammy show. Its annually increasing mediocrity was long blamed on the Cossette productions, which were without value, but the thumping blob in the gutter of tastelessness turned out to be the music itself. Oh, there was Steve Jobs, he gave sales a boost, 99¢ at a time, but nobody could stop the fat lady from singing. She is the one performer not ready for reissue.

If you love animals, you will listen to them.

When a successor made the Apple OS available, the result was a disaster.

Check out this young lady.

The best of luck with your site, Allan. I know it's going to be absorbing. Now, at least, people know that you are not a little black dog. I have known that for a very long time, but I never told anyone.

I did my own index for my Bessie Smith biography and using the computer actually made it quite easy. The problem I had on the expanded 2003 edition was space--Yale U. Press gave me a limited number of pages, so the index is not nearly as extensive as I wanted it to be. Better than nothing, however, nothing being what I found ins Reading Jazz,a compilation of jazz pieces. Edited by Robert Gottlieb, its 1068 pages cry out for an index.

"Father and son shared an academic bent," writes Maslin, but I see no reference in her review to their shared bent for exploitation. I hope John Szwed (a writer who I admire and who by chance gave my career a pivotal boost) does not fail to mention the darker side of the Lomax venture. Granted, his father was probably the worst offender, but Alan seems to have continued that family tradition seamlessly. When you finish reading the book, I hope you come back and tell us this is not yet another whitewash. BTW, Maslin bemoaning the omission of a discography indicates how little she knows. As busy as the Lomaxes were (and they did enrich our world, as well), that would fill another volume.

Listen to what Shawn and Papsrus have to say. They are absolutely right and the haven't even begun to point out the Mac's superiority over PC—Dell is junk by comparison. BTW, I have used MAcs since they came out, in 1984, and regular Apple computers since 1979. Presently, I also have Windows installed on my main Mac (with Parallels), but only because I need to use it for an ongoing job. The two operating systems run seamlessly (and simultaneously) on the same machine. My 2¢

I was going to recommend Viagra, but I guess I misread the thread heading.

It won't be "The Soul of Wynton Marsalis"

This morning, I woke up to find ice on my window... ...and a face in Central Park...

Bill Grauer Productions was not a part of any larger entity. There was no "jazz division," but we had a nice restroom. All the money? Riverside was a shoestring operation kept alive by manipulation (and a little help from Herman Gimbel). Orrin, as far as I know, was not involved in the finances, which is why the whole thing collapsed when Bill died. It was said that he really didn't, that the coffin was full of rocks, and that he relocated to Switzerland. I don't believe any of that, but I am inclined to take seriously the rumor that Herman Gimble was the beneficiary of a seriously substantial life insurance policy on Bill.

A great idea, Allen, but I have already posted Sunao's request to a list that Dan belongs to.

I share that opinion, Allan. It is usually a mistake to interview former love interests. She sounds like classic evidence of that. Mr. JazzWax has had some interesting interviews, but he tends to be ever so careful, which often translates into serious omissions and skirting around.

What a ridiculous observation. I suppose he went around interviewing the patrons--how else, in those pre Psychic Friends Network days, would he know. Does he mention the dressing room? That's what immediately struck me as an insult. I recall Cecil Taylor having to change clothes between racks in the cloakroom at Slugs, and the one at Pep's, in Philadelphia, was a dump. Even the Apollo Theater had filthy, uninviting dressing rooms. They were not even fit for posing hipsters with unfulfilled expectations.

I believe there are two books. I have them both, one in two different editions. Babs, a next door neighbor gave them to me (which was unusual for him), but I paid my dues each time he clip-clopped into the lobby in his wooden shoes and had the doorman ring me at 5 in the morning