Tom Storer

The price. Eventually I hope this kind of setup will become a standard solution with lots of choices and a more affordable price. What would be even better would be a simple hard disk that would store music rather than having to stream it. Connect it to your computer, transfer or record music files, be able to play them on your stereo. A TIVO for music. That's seems like such an obvious solution that I'm surprised no one has come up with it yet.

Just out of curiosity, at what bitrate do you rip your MP3s?

To back up files, just burn them to CDs or DVDs, or copy them to a separate hard disk if you have one. Yes, when you enter music from a homemade CD, you can enter all the information you want in iTunes. Here's a very handy thing for all iPod users on Windows (John L, take note): SharePod, a program that you store on your iPod as a file (not added through iTunes). Once it's on your iPod, just double-click the sharepod.exe file in Windows Explorer and the application starts. Using it, you can copy music that's in your iPod to any PC, without needing to go through iTunes. It keeps all the tags, too, including comments.

I discovered Vic Berton on a bunch of mostly Red Nichols sides on the "Anthology of Jazz Drumming" on the now defunct Masters of Jazz label. Definitely an undersung hero of early jazz drums!

Thanks for that tip, John. One question: if your MP3s are not all in the iTunes Library folder to begin with, what does the "organize my music" operation do with them: - move them to iTunes Library folder (so they're no longer where they used to be) - move a copy of them to the iTunes Library folder - leave them where they are ?

The first thing to know is that you organize your music first in iTunes, the application that comes with your iPod, and then use iTunes to transfer the music to your iPod. When adding music from a CD and converting to MP3, yes, iTunes gets the tags from the CD. If you haven't changed the tags on your MP3s that's no doubt how they'll be identified in iTunes. But you can edit the tags easily in iTunes to make them what you want. There are many ways to categorize music and you can sort in iTunes by any category, including year. However, the iPod itself has more limited display possibilities. As rostasi noted, on the iPod you can look at your music in the following ways: - by playlist - by artist - by album - by song - by podcast - by genre - by composer - by audiobook I suggest you enter, in the Album field, the artist name and session ID, including year (for example "Duke Ellington 1958-31-10 NYC" or whatever information you want to store there). That way, when you look at the list of Albums (meaning sessions in your case), you'll see the artist and year information for each session, and they'll be alphabetized by artist name. If you only store by year, and not by any further session subdivision, you can just enter "Duke Ellington 1958" as the album name for all tracks Ellington recorded in 1958. From the iPod's point of view, it will be one album entitled "Duke Ellington 1958." You can store so many albums (or sessions) on an iPod that I find it indispensable to include the artist name with the album name. I name my albums in the form "artist name, album name." That way when I see an album like "Live at the Village Vanguard" or "Plays Gershwin" I know which one it is--I see "Bill Evans, Live at the Village Vanguard" or "John Coltrane, Live at the Village Vanguard." As long as you're organized in your data entry--which I suspect you will be if you've already gone to the trouble of storing your MP3s by recording session!--you should be able to categorize like this and see your music by artist, by year.

The SF Jazz Collective e-Store provides the skinny: For the Collective's 2004 inaugural season, SFJAZZ issued a collector's edition 3-CD set documenting live recordings of the ensemble's eight original compositions and six masterworks by Ornette Coleman. In fall 2005, SFJAZZ released a limited edition 2-CD set documenting the ensemble's second season (spring '05) with live recordings of each of the new compositions by each band member and new arrangements of seven works by John Coltrane. In fall 2006, SFJAZZ will release a limited edition multi-disc set documenting the ensemble's third season (spring '06) with live recordings of each of the new compositions by each band member and new arrangements of six works by Herbie Hancock. Further googling reveals that there are also one-CD compilations of the 2004 and 2005 sets released on Nonesuch. Can anyone offer an opinion on the first two? I'm afraid it'll be terribly professional and squeaky clean but without much juice. In particular, I'm having a hard time imagining these folks really being comfortable with Ornette's music on the first release...

He may well be correct, but personally I have no problem with that. As someone once said somewhere, "If jazz is dead, I'll feast on the carcass."

Yeah, but you're asking us to just listen and then not talk about it ad infinitum. Impossible!

Jim, I hate to be a pill, but can you elaborate on what you mean by "dance" when you say "the music needs to dance"? I know, I know, "if you don't know by now, don't mess with it," but humor me.

I agree that Elmore Leonard is a very fine writer. Too fine, maybe--you can hardly pick up a crime novel these days without running across Leonard's dialogue style in the mouths of another writer's characters, usually unconvincingly done. But hey, that's not Leonard's fault. As for the passive voice... as Nate says, it is ridiculous to attempt to ban it outright. However, beginning writers do need to know what it is, and to be aware that the active voice has many advantages. I disagree with the notion that writing can't be taught--as an editor of technical writers, I know that it needs to be taught and that writers can and do improve. The rules in a style guide look stupid as soon as each is confronted with a real-life situation where the rule is overruled, but if they're presented with examples and the proviso that there will always be times when they should be ignored, they make a handy reference. I believe from experience that writers learn (when they do learn) from the example of better writing, not by diligently applying rules. But in the case of AAJ, can you blame them for trying to limit the damage? Their reviews come from people with different levels of writing skill, and some of them are real train wrecks. At least they can use their rules to justify some of their edits to the writers. This reminds me that I wrote a couple of reviews for AAJ myself, but many years ago. I didn't continue because I naively just wanted to review whatever the hell I wanted to, whereas they wanted me to concentrate on one style or another that they needed reviewers for.

Chuck expresses fear that "pockets" of new styles means there is "no direction ahead." Implied here is that there is no common direction. Jim S says "all great music comes out of a heritage of ritual, including dance." Clementine replies that "art cannot abide the tyranny of group ritual." It seems to me that one big question is that of knowing what group we're talking about--is there even a group? At one time, it could be argued, there was a group you could call "jazz musicians," who were a group because of a solid core of common concerns: the professional practices and the musical techniques, preoccupations and explorations of all were observed, commented on, argued about, shared, changed and developed by all the others, or close enough. In parallel was the group of "jazz fans." At some point, the centrifugal force of movements toward jazz "avant-gardisme", toward opportunistic commercialism, toward electronic experimentation, toward large-scale injections of other world music traditions, and toward a shift away from a strictly American heritage and context, seems to have led jazz to escape the gravity of history that kept it bound up as one thing, however disparate and restless. Now (to stick with this cosmic metaphor) it's as if the first fifty years of jazz history are the sun around which revolve, at distances ranging from very close to very distant, several different planets. Some planets are always in danger of being declared not really planets at all (by astronomers on the other planets, naturally). And when you read some of the debates between Wynton fans and Vision Festival regulars, truly "dialogues of the deaf," you can't help but conclude that yes, these people are from different planets. But anyway... Is Chuck's yearning for a "direction ahead" not the flip side of the Wyntonian desire to circle the wagons? Don't both assume that it's desirable for "jazz" to be unified enough that we can talk about a direction ahead as opposed to many paths, none of which can claim to be the direction for jazz? Jim points to the importance of ritual, by definition a group activity, but I think his social thinking is probably too developed for me to schematize. Clementine calls ritual a "tyranny" that Art cannot abide. And yet ritual abounds in the arts, even art that loudly proclaims that it is unfettered, because human beings are social animals. How could we do without it? Personally, I think it's too late to pine for a single direction for jazz, even a principal direction. There are too many of us human beings out here, too much freedom, too much visibility, for alternative directions not to swell. That means that for musicians and listeners alike, the days when one could be a "jazz musician" or "jazz fan" without having to add many qualifications to explain what you meant have ended. Having ambitions, expectations or yearnings on behalf of "jazz" as a whole no longer means anything; "jazz" has become a useless generality. Nowadays we have to be specific.

It may seem clever, but it was wholly coincidental. I only got "Sonny's Dream" after I'd put up the BFT, so I didn't even know the Harold Vick tune was on it! No, the leader was Milt Hinton. Sorry, should have made that clear.

The above quotes dovetail perfectly. Jim says what's important is a personal voice, and to hell with jazz if that's not what jazz is about anymore. Ghost says the jazz that may endure--implied: that which encourages the personal voice--won't sound like jazz, i.e. like the jazz we've grown up with. So Jim, if you move past jazz, maybe you'll really be moving into jazz of another, not immediately recognizable stripe. One you'll be helping define. Then again, maybe you'll move into Asian hip-hop and that will be that. I've been thinking about all this sort of thing since the weekend, when I saw William Parker/Hamid Drake/Roy Campbell/Daniel Carter and was bored silly, while in the meanwhile I've been reading Larry Kart's superb book, "Jazz In Search Of Itself" (loud applause to Larry), a big theme of which is jazz as self-enactment. The Parker group sounded like jazz, and the bass and drums had moments of admirable stylistic strength, but in general, if they were revealing themselves, as a group, then they're an awfully bland bunch. Which I seriously doubt is the case, hence I think they were merely "playing a style". Meanwhile in the upstairs, separately ticketed room of the same club, a French alto saxophonist named Pierrick Pedron was playing bebop in a quartet with Mulgrew Miller. I longed to be able to switch allegiance and go upstairs, where the style being played was fifty years older but one that I think is a lot richer, and in which at least one player was without doubt playing for real. [dons asbestos suit in anticipation of assault by William Parker fans]

I think art can reveal feelings to the perceiver--and that can seem like discovery, hence a sense of "new" feelings. Of course there's nothing new under the sun, but when some of those old feelings, repressed or denied or simply taken for granted and unnoticed, appear in technicolor in the light of day... wow.

I may get you wrong here, but Monk's tune "Light Blue" is totally different from this one here. That it is, but I can't help that! He called the tune "Light Blue." I'm just the messenger here.

You guys believe that old rumor that Joe Farrell died? I just saw him in a supermarket the day before yesterday. He and Elvis were reading the Enquirer in the checkout line.

Thanks to everyone for participating! 1. Blues Five Spot Bobby Hutcherson, vibraphone; Tete Montoliu, piano. Recorded at the Subway Jazz Club, Köln, Germany, Nov. 6, 1991. Only jazz musicians in a jazz club could have so much visceral, cerebral fun. Hutcherson's comments crack me up: "I think this is it..." This is a good one for washing away the dust of everyday life, to paraphrase Bu. Kudos to brownie for being the only one to spot Hutcherson! 2. A Remark You Made Joe Zawinul (keyboards, leader), Linley Marthe (bass), Alex Acuna (percussion), Nathaniel Townsley (drums). WDR Big Band Köln: Heiner Wiberny, Karolina Strassmayer (alto sax); Oliver Peters, Paul Heller (tenor sax); Jens Neufang (baritone sax); Andy Haferer, Rob Bruynen, Klaus Osterloh, John Marshall (trumpet); Ludwig Nuss, Dave Horler, Bernt Laukamp, Mattis Cederberg (trombone), Paul Shigihara (guitar). Recorded at the Théatre Antique, Vienne, France, July 10th, 2006. Post-Weather Report Zawinul has never grabbed me, but maybe I didn't look hard enough. In my opinion (shared by none of you) this WR piece translates very well to big band, with that big bass line for the section parts to wrap around. I believe a live record released of the Zawinul/WDR Big Band collaboration has just been released. Of all the synthesizer players, I think Zawinul has the most original and lovely sounds. That sound he gets at the start of this is wonderful--something like a cymbal hiss plus crushed velvet, with a bit of a gong in there somehow. Then for his solo he chooses to be something like a harmonica, or accordeon. The WDR Radio Big Band, based in Köln (Cologne for the rest of us), has been called "the Rolls-Royce of big bands" and is noted for its collaborations with star arrangers or instrumentalists (Jim McNeely, Bob Brookmeyer, Vince Mendoza, etc.). It was clearly too "easy listening" for most of you, but I like it the same way I like CD1, track 7, "Saving All My Love For You." 3. It's About Time George Russell and The Swedish Living Time Orchestra - Conducted by Lennart Åberg Personnel: Hans Dyvik, Palle Mikkelborg and Magnus Broo, trumpet; Magnus Viklund, trombone; Anders Wiborg, bass trombone; Johan Hörlen, alto saxophone; Lennart Åberg, tenor saxophone; Alberto Pinton, baritone saxophone; Ola Bengtsson, guitar; Bobo Stenson, piano; Daniel Karlsson, keyboards; Christian Spering, bass; Bengt Stark, drums; Magnus Persson, percussion. Recorded at Jazzclub Fasching, Stockholm, May 15, 2006. I thought I'd toss in another contemporary big band. It's unclear what role Russell played other than composer, but he may have been coaching the band during rehearsals. A spirited performance. Congratulations to Nate for nailing Russell. 4. Melancholy Baby (7:02) Norman Simmons, piano; Lisle Atkinson, bass; Paul Humphrey, drums. From "In Private," Savant, 2002. OK, enough of all that modern racket. Back to a nice piano trio. I love Simmons but also wanted to give props to the great and undersung bassist, Lisle Atkinson, he of the iron fingers, the massive sound, and the fabulous taste. He was the anchor of the seminal Betty Carter trio of the mid-to-late 60's, and the only time I ever saw him live was in a trio with James Newton and Andrew Cyrille. Carter pronounced his first name to rhyme with "aisles"--I wonder if that's right. 5. Delilah (8:38) Shirley Scott, Hammond B3 organ; David "Fathead" Newman, flute; Bobby Durham, drums. Recorded at the Copenhagen Jazzhouse, Copenhagen, July 11, 1996. I had to include at least one organist, right? Organ trio with flute is uncommon enough, and I'd already put in a couple of musicians not playing their main instrument, so this fit into that thread. 6. If You Can't Come, Don't Call (9:03) Frank Wess, tenor sax; Smith Dobson, piano; Larry Grenadier, bass; Donald Bailey, drums. Recorded at Yoshi's, Oakland, CA, Jan. 15, 1988. Actually, this is Harry Allen. JUST KIDDING! Wess is an irresistible saxophonist and the trio is beautiful, too. Reason enough to include this one. 7. In Your Own Sweet Way Ricky Ford, tenor sax; Kirk Lightsey, piano; Tibor Elekes, bass; Douglas Sides, drums. Recorded at the Intönne Festival, Diersbach, Austria, May 15, 2005. The brawny-toned Ricky Ford was Mingus' last tenor and sometimes he channels George Adams. An easy call for several of you. Kirk Lightsey is best known for his long stint in Dexter Gordon's quartet. Here they tear it up in a pretty sure-footed way. Good, meaty stuff. 8. Darn That Dream Jean-Louis Chautemps, tenor sax; René Urtreger, piano; Riccardo Del Fra, bass; Eric Dervieu, drums. Recorded at the Duc des Lombards, Paris, France, May 5, 2006. (I hadn't recognized the tune myself, but two of you name it as "Darn That Dream" so I'll take your word for it.) Urtreger and Chautemps, 72 and 75 years old respectively, both Frenchmen, represent a whole bygone era of European jazz. Local players could back touring hired-gun soloists or American ex-pats, learning from the source. Chautemps played with Sidney Bechet, Django, Lester Young, Roy Eldridge, Chet Baker, Kenny Clarke, and on and on, and moved to Berlin for a few years to play and arrange for Kurt Edelhagen's band. Urtreger played with a similar range of musicians and of course was the pianist on Miles's "Ascenseur pour l'Echafaud." Urtreger ignored later developments, while Chautemps tried his hand at Euro-free, then played in a freewheeling saxophone quartet that was fairly cutting-edge in the 80's when they did an album with some pretty fearless electronic deconstruction. But here he's back to his stylistic home base in a rare club appearance. They may not have invented this style, but they were there at its beginnings sharing the bandstand with its creators, and it belongs to them, too. Riccardo del Fra, 50, is a first-call bassist, kind of in the Eddie Gomez school of bassists, who plays with top European and American names. Eric Dervieu, also 50, is a fixture on the Paris scene. 9. That Was That (6:17) Roger Kellaway, piano; Red Mitchell, bass, vocal; Jan Allan, trumpet. Recorded at Jazz Club Fasching, Stockholm, Nov. 18, 1990. And that was that!

Thanks to everyone for participating! 1. Slap Happy Lionel Hampton, vibraphone; Milt Hinton, bass; Jimmy Ford, drums. New York, Feb. 28, 1990. From "Old Man Time," Chiaroscuro. I like the sly and joyful way Hamp does this. Listening to this one night, I flashed on how funky it is--the way that sensuality through rhythmic science is what links all the music of the African diaspora, in one form or another. And Milt Hinton, of course, is pure joy--a strong light shining out each time he played. He and Hamp were both old when this was recorded, but pickled in swing as they were, you would never know it. (And props to the ego-less drummer, Jimmy Ford, who so beautifully provides the hardwood floor they need to dance on.) 2. The Black Apostles Horace Tapscott's Arkestra: Oscar Brashear, trumpet; Thurman Green, trombone; Arthur Blythe, alto sax; Teddy Edwards, tenor sax; Michael Session, baritone sax; Horace Tapscott, piano; Roberto Miguel Miranda, bass; Fritz Wise, drums. Recorded in Grant Park, Chicago, Illinois, Sept. 12, 1993. Tapscott composed and arranged the music for a Sonny Criss record, "Sonny's Dream," in 1968, and this version of his Arkestra played a couple of pieces from it, including this one, at this 1993 concert, with Arthur Blythe in Criss's shoes. Tapscott, Miranda and Wise are playing with such strength of vision here that it's spooky. Blythe is an instantly recognizable sound for those who have heard him. I was wondering if anyone would pick up Teddy Edwards on tenor sax in this atypical situation, and Magnificent Goldberg did right away. 3. Keith Jarrett, De Drums Keith Jarrett, piano; Dewey Redman, tenor sax; Charlie Haden, bass; Paul Motian, drums; Danny Johnson, percussion. From "Fort Yawuh," Impulse, recorded at the Village Vanguard, NYC, 1973. I had no doubt this would be identified, but I wanted to include an homage to Redman, and "If the Misfits (Wear It)" (from the same album) has already been talked about on the web since his death as a great example of his work with Jarrett, so I thought I'd put on something else. This album and this tune were important to me in my teenage discovering-jazz days and I still find myself spontaneously humming the second tenor melody, lo these many years hence. I love Haden's sound here and the loose, insistent beat. 4. Sandy and Niles Harold Vick, tenor sax; Kenny Barron, piano; Ted Dunbar, guitar; Michael Fleming, bass; Michael Carvin, drums. Recorded at Purdue University, West Lafayette, Indiana, Oct. 20, 1978. Vick is not a saxophonist I know very well (yet), but the boot this comes from turned me on to him. Some of you felt the rhythm section wasn't smooth enough, but I like the kind of nervous, jostling way they play, reminding me of an eager dogsled team bumping against each other as they pull the sled forward smartly. Ted Dunbar was identified and sniffed at, but nobody noticed Kenny Barron. Congratulations to JSngry for being the only one to spot Harold Vick! 5. Light Blue Wolfgang Puschnig, flute; Steve Swallow, bass guitar; Don Alias, percussion; Victor Lewis, drums. Recorded August 19-21, 2001. From "Grey," Quinton. Some relatively lightweight fun. I was going to include a Monk tune from an album that Puschnig, on alto, did with Jamalaadeen Tacuma some time ago, a very witty collection of Monk à la funk. But I couldn't find the CD--I think I loaned it to someone and never got it back. I saw this group in concert, I believe the only time I saw the late, great Don Alias live, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Plus I'm an unconditional fan of Steve Swallow. 6. Charlie in the Parker Muhal Richard Abrams, piano; John Purcell, tenor sax; Rick Rozie, bas; Andrew Cyrille, drums. Recorded in Trossingen, Germany, Feb. 18, 1984. This was one of the less popular pieces. I like the energy and the enthusiasm of it despite a certain lack of focus (Sangrey guessed an extra-musical origin for this). Purcell is a bit of a cipher: an excellent saxophonist and team player who has never, IMHO, really developed a distinctive personality of his own, he's nevertheless someone I enjoy hearing. Here you can hear a lot of Arthur Blythe and David Murray in his sound, both of whom he played with in Jack DeJohnette's Special Edition. 7. Saving All My Love For You Iain Bellamy, tenor sax; Stian Carstensen, accordeon. From "The Little Radio," Sound Recordings 2004. I thought this might not be guessed at all, just because I had never heard of either of these musicians until my British brother-in-law gave me "Little Radio" as a gift. Who knew they were a household name among Organissimo members? Two of you recognized it right off the bat. I googled Iain Bellamy, and found that he's a UK musician who's played with Hermeto Pascoal, Gil Evans, Mike Gibbs, and the New York Composers Orchestra, and is a longtime collaborator of Django Bates. In addition he travels a lot, playing with Carnatic percussionists and an Indian dance troupe and so on. Sounds like an interesting guy. Stian Carstensen is a member of a Norwegian/Bulgarian quintet, Farmers Market, that (it says on their website) plays a kind of cross between free jazz and Bulgarian folk music. Hmmmmm. I put their duo in here as a nice contrast--smooth and somewhat academic playing but with the soulful tune bringing a relaxed vibe to it. 8. Up Too Late John Taylor, piano; Marc Johnson, bass; Joey Baron, drums. Recorded in Birmingham, England, 2002. No, not the other Taylor! I told you I was an unconditional fan of Steve Swallow--he wrote this tune. The whole first part of it is freer than I'm used to hearing John Taylor play, then just before the 5-minute mark the Swallowish theme (if you could call it that, just some chords, really) comes in. All three of these guys are high on my list of respected players. Baron is undersung, in my opinion: his versatility is matchless. 9. Walk on Water Gerry Mulligan, soprano sax; Michael Santiago, guitar; Tommy Fay, piano; George Duvivier, bass; Bobby Rosengarten, drums. Recorded at De Speeldoos, Zaandam, Netherlands, December 16, 1976. When I saw Mulligan in New York earlier in 1976 (with a young John Scofield on guitar), he was playing a curved soprano along with his baritone--likely the same one he's playing here. What a graceful melodist he was. 10. Yesterdays Lucky Thompson, soprano sax; Martial Solal, piano; Oscar Pettiford, bass; Kenny Clarke, drums. recorded at the Essener Jazztage, Essen, Germany, April 18, 1959. A completely different soprano sound from another doubling musician. I was interested to see what the reactions were to such contrasting players on the same instrument. Mulligan was graceful and jaunty, but Thompson had so much heart. The all-star rhythm section is easy on the ears, too.

When my brother and I were in high school we used to try to convince my father to buy a better stereo, and he'd reply, "Who needs hi-fi if you have lo-fi ears?" Words of wisdom. I tend to have equipment that makes the music sound good to me, and it's just bog-standard consumer electronics stuff. Anything more expensive would be wasted on me, despite the long years and untold suffering an artist devotes to getting a good sound. One of the leading French classical music magazines, Diapason, typically has a dual review of CDs: a review of the music and a review of the recording quality, done by different people. A reader wrote in and asked why they didn't have the music and sound reviews done by the same person, and the reply was that the music reviewers, professional classical music geeks all, typically have low-end equipment and don't really care about the stereophile aspects at all.

Say, some other singer covered it, too. In the late 80's--not in the late 60's, when she recorded with a killer PIANIST AND BASSIST, Jim!

Geez, you guys are all a bunch of cranks!

Nope, not Jimmy Rowles. Listen to the bass... that big, fat, tough, swinging sound... think back to the late 60's... a singer... when I snap my fingers, you will hear the singer's voice...

I don't know, but I sure like Frank Wess. Yes, I CERTAINLY DO LIKE FRANK WESS.