JSngry

You're correct, Larry, except for the part about "onomatopoetic or nonsense syllables". Onomatepoetic, yes, ideally always. But nonsense? Only in the hands of a hack. A good scat singer will "say" the same thing that an instrumentalist would in every way. The sounds/syllables of a good scat singer's work will "mean" the same thing as an instrumentalist's lines for precisely the same reason - the manipulation of sound into a language results in a "message", a specific communication between player and listener based on a language that is commonly understood, in the greater general if not always in the immediate specific. For that reason, that's why there are so few truly successful (imo) vocalese lyrics - finding "regular" words that communicate as precisely as those of the instrumentalist's lines is a task met by either outright failure, "cleverness" (usually, in which case the result is no meaning at all except "cuteness", and depending on the solo, either a cheapening of the original or a rightful positioning of it as the "pop" (or perhaps less potentially offensive, "entertainment") artifact that it ultimately is, and no dis at all intended there), or, at its best (rarely), high-level craftsmanship in the service of artistry and/or genius. For my money, Hendricks, with whose work I am largely but in no way completely familiar with, reaches the latter level when he deals with solos that might be initially thought of as belonging to the second level. In particular, two examples (perhaps lesser known due to their being sung by Yolanda Bevan instead of Annie Ross) consistently spring to mind - his lyrics to Thad Jones's solo on "Shiny Stockings" & to Horace Silver's solo on "Doodlin'". For that matter, the entirety of "Doodlin'" is a delight, playing as it does the quintessential Hard Bop Game of presenting an entertaining exterior over a subtly "deeper" interior. HEndricks could be silly, and Hendricks could be "middlebrow", but on occasion, Hendricks could also Get It Exactly Right, and for that he has my enduring respect, if not my consistent love. Just my opinion.

Sorry, LTB = the Lovely and Talented Brenda, my wife. It's a term I've used here and at the BNBB for a long time, but sometimes I forget that not everybody's gonna know that. My bad there.

"If that ofay punk John Hammond says "Splendid!" one more time, I'm putting my motherfuckin' foot up his goddamn ass."

Thanks! It was better than either one of us dreamed, and we were having pretty fervid dreams. KAL = Korean Air Lines

What about Holiday Foreskins? Have those tapes been released in uncut form yet?

Just got back from a 2-night, 3-day 25th anniversary lockup/in w/LTB at an Omni hotel, and on the rare occasions we came up/out for air and food, the house (i.e. - lobby, restaurant, & bar) music was 3/4 piped in jazz from the 50s/early 60s & 1/4 "Classic Soul". A.O., I heard Turrentine/Scott regularly & the Miles/Trane Prestige "Four" several times a day each day. What struck me about the former was that when that music was first made, the only place to hear it off the turntable and radio was in bars/clubs that were the opposite of this hotel in every way. About the latter, I couldn't help but think that that music was made by a band that was 4/5 hardcore junkies who even now would probably scare the living shit out of everybody staying there and 99% of the people working there. Also in/at the hotel the same time as us - a group of about 20 KAL hostesses & the entirety of a convention of something called "All Star Kids", which is apparently some level of the pageantry world about which the less I know, the happier I think I'll be. Everybody else was either businesspeople or couples who seemed to be like us, folks who wanted to shut out the reality of Reality for a little bit and get back in touch with the deepest reality of their lives. I think it was very unlikely that the number of people in that crowd who knew that particular 2/3 of the music being played (or was even listening to it) was higher than, counting myself) 2 or 3. That's just how it goes. So, yeah, this music that once was one thing is now being used for something else entirely, yet in both cases it's unmistakably "jazz". Is this something I should be happy about? If it is, then fuck me again, because I think it's bullshit. Is this something I should be offended by? Is so, then fuck me again, because hey, we're talking music that's at or approaching 50 years old now, made when most of the people hearing it (and even some of their parents) weren't even born, and music that was made by people who are now eitehr dead or else coming down the homestretch in no uncertain terms. The people hearing it in that hotel didn't know, and didn't care. The music was totally neutral. That it was music that had not that long ago been anything but neutral just tells me that time has marched on as time will do, and that any power that this type jazz has left is that which we grant it, not that which forces itself on us (I seriously doubt I'd hear Pangea or Interstellar Space in these surroundings, much less a Hot five side). Now me myself, I'm perfectly willing, under the right circumstances, to grant this type music plenty of power, for any number of reasons. But if I think that it still "matters" for anything other than personal pleasure or a window into a specific time, place, and culture, then I am being seriously delusional, because it doesn't. It just doesn't. I mean, if oatmeal-legged stage-grandmothers and totally emasculated teenage boys can sit still while hearing Trane & Philly Joe slash their way through two choruses and not so much as even squirm in their seat just a little bit, then any illusions that this music is still truly (i.e. - intirnsically) "hip" or "cool" are just plain, freakin' nuts. In fact, I'd not be too surprised if at some point in the not too-distant future, some All Star Kid uses "jazz playing" as their talent, and that it will be applauded with great gusto.. Wouldn't surprise me a bit.

This is roughly what you said about Ronnie Matthews. Well, yeah. And the corollary to that is that if all these people really were "hacks" or whatever, then music would pretty much be either wild, bug-eyed genius or snooze-ola mechanical interchangeabilities. Such (clearly, imo) is not the case, although, for whatever reasons, some people try to convince you that it is. Whether that's their genuine personal POV (and I myself gotta consider that an unfortunate tunnel vision), or whether they're being agitators against complacency, I don't know, but ultimately, for me, exaggeration in the service of truth ultimately leads to no truth at all. It's as if one drives too fast to get somewhere (and there's that "anxiety" again, justified or not...), only to miss it by being unable to stop in time to get out of the car. You just blow past it and say "there it is!" on your way to not being there...

"Sing a Song of Watergate", yeah, that's the one I had. I wanted to like it, but couldn't. "True" as it was, it wasn't funny. I've heard "Anyway ... Onward" at some point though, probably back in high-school days. I remember it as being pretty good. And speaking of LBJ... Anybody remember "Welcome To The LBJ Ranch"?

I think they donate them to the local food bank & take a tax deduction. It's the right thing to do!

And oh by the way, I mean the above with absolutely zero rancor towards Brian/Clem/Chauncey/Zelig/Forrest Gump/Whoever. Much love for he/she/them/its. Genuinely & sincerely. They make good., provocative points often largely grounded in at least some/many levels of reality. It is more the conclusions they reach - either Hack or Hero, with precious little in between, that I find...silly and/or uninformed and/or unfortunate and/or immature. But I'm ok with that, since I am a self-absorbed prick who is pretty much convinced that what I know (which is far from everything, trust me), I know, so I know where they're coming from. :g :g

And I still do! And I'm not particularly bothered by it. But love and such aside, he's still wrong about Burrell. Trust me - I've known more than a few "hacks" and guys who just play it for the paycheck, and Kenny Burrell is nowhere near that type player, not even on a "glorified" level, or wasn't in the days I prefer to listen to him. Such perceptions to me speak of somebody who "knows" music very well, loves it deeply, and is fatally in love with the notion of walking the tightrope in it's infinitely variegated manifestations. All of which I understand, and appreciate myself. But what it does not speak to is somebody who has had to play music at any level other than casual. As with James Spaulding & Clark Terry, there is an "in between" layer where competence is impeccably high, and "personal substance", although not always as high as competence, does exist on a very real, honest, and honorable level. And although those supporters of such artists who overlook this "gap" are not being totally intellectually honest about the matter, those who write such players off as "hacks" and such really do not get it. Their defense, that even if what I mention as being there is ultimately worthless even if it is there, ultimately speaks to a consumer mentality, one which needs visceral thrills (even the visceral thrill of intellectual stimulation) to affirm one's own existence. To which I can only say - I know I'm alive, and I know what my reality is. I don't need anybody or anything to confirm it for me. And although the rush of going out on a limb is one which I will hopefully perpetually enjoy, there is room in my world for benevolence of music played with substance, grace, and polish that does not trigger the metaphorical bug-eyed-ness. There is room for craft as art and art as craft. I do not feel either threatened or insulted by such music or musicians, and in fact feel that they are the "working men" of creative musics, the people who give substantive, real, and valuable body and depth to what would otherwise a collective set of genius/near-genius/wacko creative ejaculations. What I do not have room for is imitation as craft or art, or craft as art where it is obvious that the practitioner has no concept whatsoever of where the art lies. To say that about Kenny Burrell, or James Spaulding, or Clark Terry, strikes me as willful ignorance, as limited/selective hearing/seeing of a broader reality. It's not even a 3-D reality that such a view represents, it's more like a 2.93-D reality (and we all know that 3-D itself is actually/ultimately a pretty "shallow" representation of "reality"). To say it about Oscar Peterson, well....that just goes to show you that I am qualified to comment on the shortcomings of such a position by having it at least somewhat myself. In my defense, though, I will only add that Oscar Peterson seems to have had a sense of grandeur about himself the Burrell, Spaulding, & Terry never have come close to having. So that skews the equation considerably towards not really knowing where the art is. That's my story, and... Bottom line - in my book, rabid under-appreciation & rabid over-appreciation are both qualities for which one should not settle (or get suckered into). Call me Goldilocks.

"Dale" was one of Roy's nicknames, iirc.

That was on GNP, right? I used to have that one... The Fantasy, you say it was suppressed? Does that mean before or after it was on the market for a while? In other words, how difficult might it be to find a copy today?

Her figure was much more "today" in terms of height/slenderness ratio than most women you see in movies of that era. I, uh....appreciate that. I also caught the end of that Las Vegas movie that played just before Beverly. Who was the female singer featured in that last Dorsey number towards the end? She stayed seated in the back of the band & was featured through close-up. Looked very familiar...

Why? Buckley was a cult figure from Day One. Pretty sure that that phrase is original to Buckley.

I had never seen the young Ann Miller until tonight. WHOA!

That's pretty cool.

Was RCA doing LPs in 1951 or before?

When teamed w/Stepney, oh hell yeah. The shit's all over the map, from psychedelic doo-wop to borderline wack vocal jazz to deep grit South((ern) (Side)) Soul to Power Funk, but its always got them voices, and them voices is good. This is what them that only know their music as Popular & Soulful nowadays call "grown folks music" in the best possible way. This seems like the right place to put in a plug for the three early 70's Terry Callier Cadet albums with Stepney... Sweet As Funk Can Be is an album of mostly Callier (co-penned) songs sung by The Dells & produced by Stepney. It is a sublime piece of work.

Does it count if you posted this yesterday & I just now read it today?

C'mon, y'all. it's for the Make Up A Wish Floundation!

Too bad there was never a Holiday For Shirts. Then we coulda had the Bud Bowl, only with Art Blakey CDs.

In fact, when I smoked, I smoked menthol. And when you'd get a, uh..."less enlightened" white guy bumming a cigarette off of you & you offered him a menthol, well, you'd best be ready for some culturally-motivated verbal hijinks! If you know what I mean...