Tom Storer

That's the band I saw in Paris. Henderson introduced himself as Stan Getz but I don't think anyone was fooled.

I never really warmed up to Renee Rosnes' music, not sure why. But Peter Washington and Lewis Nash are tops at what they do, and I did see Rosnes when she was in Henderson's "all-girl" rhythm section, so I'll look for this. Thanks for the tip, Jim.

My wife and I used to take ballroom dancing classes here in France. The Madison is one of the stock dances they teach. I think every teacher uses a slightly different version of the steps, but it's all the same idea. People in a line kick, hop, step, swing their arms, whatever, then turn 90° and repeat with variations. It goes on until you get sick of it, which is pretty quickly in my experience.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. Hoping for the best possible recovery.

I'm told that as recently as June he appeared in good health and gave no indication that he was ill.

"That's not the change we need!"

I remember that thread, where you and Jim heatedly disputed Max Roach and Tony Williams' later work. I remember being confused at the time by your quite personal definition of horizontality vs. verticality. If this quote from that thread is anything to go by: --then it's mostly a description of rhythmic phrasing, no? Which is what confuses, since "vertical" is often used to refer to harmony, versus "horizontal" to refer to line and melody. With regard to the blues, you said that you think jazz players play horizontally whereas the blues is vertical, which, going by your definition above, would mean jazz players are more metronomic. Are you thinking of jazz players stringing together long lines of eighth-notes, whereas blues players have more idiosyncratic phrasing?

And I'm sure your manager was glad to see you go!

They have a beautiful duo record by Bill Charlap and Warren Vaché called "2gether".

2 out of 12. I should move out of the cloisters.

I was once at a concert by the Mingus Big Band and a fellow who came to buy a ticket was bewildered to learn that Mingus was not in the band because he was dead. I don't count incorrect pronunciation as ignorance, especially abroad, but the French have a charming habit of pronouncing Dizzy Gillespie's name "Deedzy Jeelepsie." They also pronounce Bechet "Bay-shett" because they assume the last syllable should be pronounced English-style.

Joyeuse anniversaire !

I like Pat Martino's "Consciousness." Particularly side two (I had it on vinyl in high school).

My most fervent wish for what I would like to leave behind is, like for some others who have weighed in, family-related. I'd like my son to be able to draw on his relationship with me and his memories of my example to find strength and meaning in his own life. If I were able to look down from my cloud in Heaven (or up from my flame-pit in Hell) and see that happening, it would be enough to have made life worthwhile. I think much of the desire to leave behind a legacy is simply that we don't want to die. I don't want to die but I'm resigned to it; even if my name were remembered by the whole world, it wouldn't make a difference to me because I'd be dead! My wishes for my son are about him, not about me. Otherwise, I'm more concerned with helping things go well in the here and now, be it at work, among family, among friends, among strangers... the kind of things that won't be remembered because they aren't at all remarkable, they're simply things that might make a document better (I'm an editor), help people get along, clarify an issue in dispute, relieve a little pain or bring a little comfort, or otherwise smooth the rough edges. That we can all do. No one remembers a raindrop, but enough of them will make the crops grow, and that's the real point.

Three of my favorites are: - Joe Pass, Intercontinental (1969, I think), with Eberhard Weber on bass, Kenny Clare (not Clarke) on drums - Jim Hall Live, with Don Thompson and Terry Clarke - Kenny Burrell, A Night at the Village Vanguard, 1959, with Richard Davis and Roy Haynes I had the K. Burrell on vinyl, got it when I was young, and I just picked it up on CD the other day. There are no fireworks but it has so much class. Another guitar favorite is Jim Hall's duo with Ron Carter, "Live at Village West." Beautiful interaction, beautiful sound.

Then there was Tim Berne's 1993 album of Julius Hemphill music, "Diminutive Mysteries." It had Berne, Marc Ducret, Hank Roberts, Joey Baron, Herb Robertson, Mark Dresser, and... David Sanborn.

I favor the virtual death penalty for virtual murder. Hey, this is cool. I can be a virtual conservative!

Wow, it even has an wikipedia entry (thanks, Chas). People collect these things? I thought maybe it was one of those annoying strips of plastic glued over the tops of CDs so you can't open them easily. They don't do that in France, it's only US imports. God, how I hate those things.

What's an obi strip?

What saxophonist? I see the saxophone, but no saxophonist. Only Max and the bassist. Could be Morrow on bass, but I dunno:

Last night I saw Eric Harland's brand new quintet--it was their first performance. Harland, drums, composer; Walter Smith III, tenor sax; Julian Lage, guitar; Taylor Eigsti, piano; Harish Raghavan, bass. Very, very cool--longish jamming over interesting grooves and melodic motifs, high energy, creative interplay, all the musicians having an absolute gas despite jet lag. A lot of fusion influence somehow, but indirect. It was my first time seeing any of them and I was very impressed. It was the sort of concert where everybody goes home grinning. They were recording, and will record subsequent concerts on the tour with the hopes of releasing a live album. So I started googling and found that there's a whole generation I haven't been aware of. Lage and Smith, Christian Scott, a bunch of other names all playing on each other's albums and gigging with each other. Anybody familiar with what these young guys are doing?

A tie... 1) Ornette Coleman and Prime Time, early 90's. It was so loud I began to feel panicky--like the sound waves were seriously doing me harm. I thought I might get sick, it was so loud. I had to leave. Out in the parking lot, about a hundred feet from the door, I turned around and could hear the music with full detail, at reasonable concert volume. I hung out for a while enjoying the music outside, kind of a surreal experience. 2) Johnny Thunders, long ago, not sure just when. A friend took me to the Gibus, a rock club in Paris, to see this. The canned music on the sound system before the concert was so loud that all conversation was impossible. When Thunders and his band came out the volume increased a whole lot. I had hissing in my ears for a full 24 hours afterward.

Lots of people have bad intentions, racist attitudes, and so forth; some people don't know how to deal with that well. Handling all confrontations by saying "you are acting in bad faith because you're a racist" has the dual advantage of protecting oneself against genuine racist attitudes and giving oneself an out whenever there's even the possibility of racist attitudes; the first advantage is self-protection, the second is self-indulgence. But it's hard to come to general conclusions. Her conclusion--"this conflict is not my fault, it's the fault of your racism"--while it may not have been accurate this time, may well have been accurate on other occasions with other people. I don't know that the incident is indicative of anything in particular on a larger scale, other than the presence of racism in America. Her experience of racism as a black American is no doubt part of her own troubles as an individual. She didn't just pull that accusation out of a hat, she did so after first picking a fight; also her son was there and she needed to frame the incident, in which she pointlessly bickered with a taxi driver to such an extent that she and her son were ejected, in a way that wasn't embarassing to her. Better, in her mind, to have her son thinking "that awful racist was mean to my mother" than to have him thinking "Mom is a crank who can't get along with anyone and embarasses me in public." Although he is probably aware of that anyway.

The New Morning is a pretty good club that wastes no money on decor or comfort. Folding wooden chairs, little round tables to set your drinks on, and they pack them in tight when they can. Nice vibe, though. No Paris jazz fan gets through the year without going to at least a couple of concerts there, often more. Holds about 300 max when it's packed, including standing room only by the bar. They don't take reservations. You can get tickets beforehand from ticket counters at the FNAC chain of CD/book/etc. stores, the Virgin Records on the Champs Elysées, and the Galeries Lafayette department store near the Saint Lazare train station, or from the New Morning itself either on the night of the concert or on prior days in late afternoon or early evening. Alternatively, you can pay online and have them send you the tickets through the mail--although I note that the late November programming isn't available for pre-order on the site yet, and you might not want to risk doing that from abroad, although I've never had any trouble doing it locally. On the night of the concert, they let in everyone first who has already purchased a ticket, and only then those who still need to buy one. That's why it's wise to visit one of those aforementioned ticket places, or the New Morning itself, to get your ticket beforehand. Music starts (theoretically) at 9 PM, doors open at 8 PM. They have a bar and often sell overpriced, undersized sandwiches until they run out, but you'd be better off getting a bite to eat first, and getting on line before 8 if you really want a good seat. Oh, yeah--it's pretty centrally located on the right bank, not far from the Chateau d'Eau metro station on line 4. The recorded announcement you get when you call them is emblazoned on my memory, so often have I heard it... "7 et 9 rue des Petites Ecuries au métro Chateau d'Eau dans le 10ème arrondissement." Pick up a little Paris map book and you'll find it very easily.

"Stooping"?