robviti

here's amazon.com's listing for the new penguin guide. the release date is 9/28 and the price is $17.68 (free shipping over $25). this seems like a good time to share something i've been sitting on for a few months. it's a note from brian morton that some of you might find amusing: THE SCOTSMAN Tue 20 Apr 2004 1,700 reasons why I have a nasty case of Adjective Fatigue BRIAN MORTON You’ll forgive the implicit plug, but Richard Cook and I have just finished work on what will be the 7th edition of the Penguin Guide to Jazz, a reference book of rainforest-threatening proportions apparently much browsed by hep cats, swingers and the occasional pointy-headed avant-gardist. And God bless every one of them. We started this Sisyphean undertaking more than ten years ago because we were young and needed the money. Now we’re older and need it even more. Over the span, we’ve said farewell to vinyl and musicassettes, seen off palace coups by minidisk and DAT, and seen the reissue catalogue erupt in a pall of boxed sets, best ofs, very best ofs and least worst ofs. If it continues like this, before the next edition looms we’ll both be found frozen in attitudes of surprise under a thick ash of burnt jewel cases and singed liner notes, like citizens of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Either that or divorced and homeless. There’s a certain forgivable euphoria in finishing a book of more than 1,700 double column pages. Like London Marathon finishers, there’s a need to talk. But the process also raises some interesting questions. After a while, endless reviewing comes to seem less like writing than typing, as someone once said of Jack Kerouac. And it makes you aware just how debased the language of critical praise really is. Leaving aside the invidious business of assigning stars and rosettes to artists’ work, there is the danger of wearing out terms such as "extraordinary", "remarkable", "innovative", and "seminal" (though I rarely have the spunk to use the last one), and a very serious danger that you’ll catch yourself thinking that a musician’s work "looks back and forward at the same time, both radical and conservative". In other words, I haven’t a scooby-doo. Then there’s the business of comparison, which is the root of all criticism and also the root of all critical evils. A young singer "merits comparison" with Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holiday. Aye, they were great; she sounds like a nail on a slate. I know how this feels. In my young day, I was likened to Parker and Gillespie. Unfortunately, it was Jim Parker and Hughie Gillespie. Finally, spare a thought and a few coppers for we sufferers from AF, an affliction every bit as debilitating as ME and IBS, but seldom spoken of outside discreet chatrooms and media snugs. For the last few months, Cook and I have battled Adjective Fatigue. How many new ways are there to describe the sound of a tenor saxophone? I long ago swore a deep vow never to use the term "warm", as jazz critics had for generations; one veteran British writer actually thought the instrument was called the "warm tenor saxophone". I also pledged never to describe a trumpet as "bell-like" until I heard one that really did remind me of Big Ben or the start of the last lap in the steeplechase. Now that we’re on the last lap - just proofs and the index to go - we both lapse into a conversational state reminiscent of a very early Ernest Hemingway story: just the names and numbers of things, no adjective or adverbs, no on-the-one-hand/on-the-other-hand qualifications. It also leaves me peering more literally than sceptically at other reviewers’ work: a play is "lacerating" - really? did you need stitches and a tetanus jab?; a Chopin recital "floods" the Wigmore Hall with sound, and after they’d spent all that money renewing the carpets; Prince’s Musicology isn’t as good as his "seminal" early work - eeeuw! So when you turn to the arts columns today, spare a further thought for the poor bugger who had to get past the "thing words" and the "doing words" and have a stab at telling you what something was like. I’m hoping to start back with colours and shapes by mid-summer and we’ll take it from there. • Donations to AFI (the Adjective Fatigue Institute - pron. "awfy") should be sent via The Scotsman.

i'm afraid it's my fault. i'm not the least bit interested in sacds. i told fantasy i wanted them to continue releasing digitial k2 remasters.i think they sound very good indeed. mea culpa. B-)

not bad, but i still like the collins kids better. check out the sound clips from their bear family box set hop, skip, and jump.

yikes! could i be any more wrong?

i like the way he plays, and i like the way he rants.

actually, muse did release ricky ford's saxotic stomp and hard groovin' on cd, and bill barron's the next plateau as well. i really like woody shaw's recordings for muse, especially moontrane and the iron men. i think my all-time favorite muse release is phil woods's musique du bois. i'm glad we got a second chance to hear some of the muse catalog through the reissues on 32 jazz (both labels were owned by joel dorn, leeway). oh, but the horrible packaging! ugly artwork, a glued-on cover that slowly comes apart over time, and dorn's essays (some boring, others truly mind-boggling) that sometimes had nothing to do with the artist! one day, i hope somebody else will take a crack at this catalog with new remasters (some of the original recordings don't sound very well recorded), original artwork, and no glue! B-)

sorry r.t., but i have to agree with mike on this one. just because a musician has a prominent role on a date as a composer, arranger, or instrumentalist doesn't make him the leader. i think of the leader of a recording date as an employer, a foreman, or a facilitator, i.e., the guy who was given the opportunity or responsibility to get things done. he might not be a composer or arranger, but that doesn't mean he can't lead a date, does it? he often chooses the personnel for the date and decides what roles those artists will play. if one player's compositions or arrangements are featured more than others, it's probably the leader's decision to do so. that's what makes him the leader. still, i like the basic idea of this thread. imo, the idea to release or reissue a recording under another artist's name has largely been a business decision, i.e., put a more popular name on the cover to sell more units, even if he was a "sideman." here are a few of my favorites. interestingly, all of them involve the black lion label: rocky boyd's ease it is also dave bailey's bash later becomes and my favorite: is the same as but the real leader of that date is trombonist willie wilson! this may have been his only recording and it has never been released under his name.

me too. i was too busy eating that white paste. and damn fine it was!

wait just a second there skeeter! the man said it shouldn't be a copy of a specific blue note lp. he didn't say it couldn't be on blue note!

thanks for the post. i've been to dusty's store a few times, but i never realized there was a reckless records so close by. however, you forgot to mention my favorite stopover when i'm in that part of town: smoke daddy rhythm & barbecue. it's around the corner on w. division. great food, cool atmosphere, attractive waitresses, and interesting live music at night. mmmm, barbecue

so, how much more would you be willing to pay per disc for a hybrid box?

they might sample jazz, but they ain't jazz.

i thought it wasn't supposed to be a copy of a BN lp?

claude, i don't think you understand the underlying meaning of meadoweagle's offer to "discuss things." he's being discreet, which is appreciated by many, i'm sure.

yep, that's the one. mackay is mentioned on the band svengali's website. maybe they can help you out: svengali also, you might want to check out this volunteer jazz site: birmingham jazz

i wonder if the former owner of the birmingham could help, if he's still alive. his name is bob mackay.

you'll find these covers and many more on this japanese site: vintage vanguard

although i'm not familiar with ogilvie's work, i think this thread deserves to be moved to the artists section.

It could be slower, I guess. When I was reluctant to do something as a kid, my mother would say I moved "slower than molasses in January." But did she know about this historical fact? The Great Molasses Flood Just how fast does molasses flow downhill in January? by Perry Lowell Slower than molasses going downhill in January? How slow do you think that is? When I tell people about The Great Molasses Flood, they don't believe me... they think that I'm telling a tall tale, or it's an urban legend. But I assure you, it's the truth. The Great Molasses Flood happened eighty years ago, on January 15th, in 1919 at the Boston, Massachusetts waterfront. Some people say, even to this day, that on a hot summer afternoon, the smell of molasses wafts 'round the New England Aquarium. It is believed that a quick rise in temperature caused the molasses to burst out of the storage tank at the Purity Distilling Company. Twenty-one people were killed and one hundred and fifty were injured. Over two million gallons of molasses poured out of the tank in eight to thirty-foot waves. It moved at speeds of up to 35 mph, destroying buildings, crushing cars, and knocking over elevated train trestles. The company ended up paying one million dollars in damages.

i think you already have an inkling as to why some people don't like op. your original statement contained the words "it's true that..., but..." that's a concession. i don't know if it was miles' and monk's reason, but i've never been particularly drawn to op primarily because often he is too flashy for my taste. imo, his style of playing lacks the enduring subtlty (aka space) of players like tommy flanagan, hank jones, and others whom i really like. i like op's trio best when it accompanies horn players like sonny stitt, roy eldridge, or ben webster. that's because i think op was better able to control his excesses on some of these dates. still, one person's excess is another person's brilliance.

i found this on the coleman hawkins neighborhood festival website: Jane Getz Lady on a Jazz Journey You may not know her name but you know her music. Piano diva Jane Getz has been a celebrity’s celebrity in the worlds of jazz and pop and played it all, only to come full-circle to the simple conclusions: "All I want to do is make jazz. Jazz sets me free." She was a classical piano child prodigy at age six, but she switched from classical music to jazz when she was about nine. "My mother took me to see Billie Holiday at the Hollywood Bowl and I just fell in love with that music." "Soon I was flipping through radio stations and heard George Shearing and thought, 'I could do that.' I was always improvising on classical stuff anyway." "Then I heard some Oscar Peterson and Bud Powell recordings and just flipped out. I knew I wanted to be a part of that mysterious world." By the time she was 12, her mother was taking her around Los Angeles to sit in with such jazz musicians as drummer Billy Higgins and saxophonist Norwood "Pony" Poindexter, and singer-songwriter Gene McDaniels (of "A Hundred Pounds of Clay" fame). "Although I was a self-taught jazz musician, there were no barriers for me," Jane says. "Even then, I never lost any bars or turned the time around. I never thought I couldn’t do it. I just knew I could." What she could do was one of the most difficult forms of music to play: improvisational jazz, be-bop. After growing up in Los Angeles, she left high school at the age of 16 to go to New York. "I knew it was the place to pursue my craft. I knew what I was going to do, and it was okay with my parents when I bought a ticket and boarded the bus." "Within hours of arriving in the Big Apple, I somehow bumped into 'Pony' Poindexter at a pay phone trying to find a replacement pianist. I tugged his sleeve and said, 'Hey, man, I can play the gig!' and I performed with him that very night." "In New York, if you can play well, the word gets around, and it did." Never one to get involved with the wrong people or the drug culture, Jane quickly became known as a serious musician, one of the finest pianists in the hard bop and post bop styles. "I like shaping musical phrases. And I like to take chances when I’m improvising, get myself in a jam and get myself out while making it sound easy on the ears. The top cats dug it. They couldn’t believe this little girl could do that." During her eight years in New York, she worked with a who’s who of jazz, most notably with Charles Mingus, Stan Getz (no relation), Herbie Mann, Thad Jones, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Charles Lloyd, Freddie Hubbard, Grant Green, Joe Williams, and Pharaoh Sanders (with whom she recorded for ESP). "I worked with the greats. People were very protective of me and I never had a problem." She also recorded with Jimi Hendrix a few weeks before his death. In the early '70s, Jane moved back to L.A. ("I got tired of the New York weather and the hectic pace; I was burned out") and became a studio musician, appearing on many rock and pop albums (including Ringo Starr, Harry Nilsson, John Lennon, Don Henley, Danny Kortchmar, The Bee Gees, Dr. John, Van Dyke Parks, Geoff Muldaur, Jimmy Spheeris). "I brought a jazz sensibility to important rock works," she says. She also signed with RCA Victor as a pop artist under the name Mother Hen (a name given to her by Gene McDaniels) in one of the largest deals of its kind to that time. After a hiatus from the music business, she began to ply her jazz talents in L.A. in jam sessions and then as a sideman for Earl Palmer, George Braith, Louis Taylor, Sal Marquez, and Wilbur Brown. During the '80s and '90s, she wrote and produced rock songs, many of which appeared on European albums and movie soundtracks. She also built a midi studio in her home. Today she still lives in L.A., where she performs regularly at local venues and records with such jazz notables as Dale Fielder, Dave Pike, and Chris Colangelo. She plays every Sunday at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church and has written a book about her journey into the world of jazz. "I've examined my journey in depth and now I'm ready for new expressions of the gift I have," says Jane. "The next step is recording more of the music welling up inside of me." Jane Getz 8185 Laurel View Dr. Los Angeles, CA 90069 (323) 656-7939

add george coleman to the list. frankly, i don't find this technique to be particularly inspiring. more of a special effects trick, actually. think of someone who continues to talk non-stop with no natural breaks. it's the space between the notes, as much as the notes themselves, that make the music meaningful for me.

RUN! HIDE YOUR OOP's!! BABYZILLA IS APPROACHING THE CITY!!!!

have you checked out these threads? NAD 542 trouble with NAD