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John Eaton, Composer and Electronic Innovator, Dies at 80 – The New York Times
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/13/arts/music/john-eaton-composer-and-electronic-innovator-dies-at-80.html?_r=0
** John Eaton, Composer and Electronic Innovator, Dies at 80
————————————————————
By WILLIAM GRIMES (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/g/william_grimes/index.html) DEC. 12, 2015
John Eaton in 2004. He was a pioneer of synthesized music. Suzanne DeChillo/The New York Times
John Eaton, an avant-garde composer of operas both grandiose and chamber-size and an early proponent of synthesizer music, died on Dec. 2 in Manhattan. He was 80.
The cause was complications of a brain hemorrhage, said his wife, Nelda Nelson-Eaton. He had fallen on Dec. 1 while walking to St. Peter’s Church in Midtown for a performance of his work “Fantasy Romance” for cello and piano.
Mr. Eaton, who studied composition at Princeton with Milton Babbitt, Edward T. Cone and Roger Sessions, wrote music in a variety of forms but was best known for his operas, many of them envisioned on a colossal scale and written microtonally — that is, using the quarter-tone intervals between the 12 semitones of the Western octave.
“Heracles,” a tragic opera about Hercules and the poisoned robe of Nessus, required 300 performers. Its premiere, in 1972, inaugurated the Musical Arts Center at Indiana University, where Mr. Eaton taught for more than 20 years and directed the Center for Electronic and Computer Music. His “Danton and Robespierre,” a seething drama set in the French Revolution, had 40 solo roles, a chorus of 250 and an orchestra of 150. It was first performed at Indiana in 1980.
After succeeding Ralph Shapey (http://www.nytimes.com/2002/06/14/business/ralph-shapey-81-composer-evoking-conflicting-impulses.html) as teacher of composition at the University of Chicago in 1992, Mr. Eaton concentrated on short staged works for a handful of performers that he called “pocket operas” and a new genre he called “romps for instrumentalists,” in which costumed performers took on dramatic roles while playing their instruments.
While studying in Rome in the early 1960s he became intrigued by the Fonosynth (https://www.google.com/search?q=fonosynth&biw=1680&bih=881&tbm=isch&imgil=an_Zudkq2_2wEM%253A%253BYb95eQbPait1IM%253Bhttp%25253A%25252F%25252F120years.net%25252Fthe-fonosynth-paul-ketoff-paolo-ketoff-julian-strini-gino-marinuzzi-jr-italy-1958%25252F&source=iu&pf=m&fir=an_Zudkq2_2wEM%253A%252CYb95eQbPait1IM%252C_&usg=__M2N0NyKHnvFtE7qm3tuIKsfpcIw%3D&ved=0ahUKEwiIp6_Voc_JAhXFWh4KHREiBAUQyjcIJw&ei=dl9oVoiUNsW1eZHEkCg#imgrc=an_Zudkq2_2wEM%3A&usg=__M2N0NyKHnvFtE7qm3tuIKsfpcIw%3D) , a large synthesizer at the American Academy of Rome designed by the Polish-Italian sound engineer Paolo Ketoff. He helped Mr. Ketoff develop a portable version, the Synket, and used it to give some of the first live performances of electronic music on a synthesizer.
“I went all over the world with the Synket, giving more than 1,000 concerts,” Mr. Eaton said in a 2013 interview (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gf0ckA5zxP0) at the Museum of Making Music, in Carlsbad, Calif. “I was the first electronic troubadour.” The synthesizer was featured in his 1966 composition “Concert Piece for Synket and Symphony Orchestra.”
He later worked for 20 years with Robert Moog, the inventor of the Moog synthesizer, to develop the Eaton-Moog Multiple-Touch-Sensitive Keyboard, a synthesizer that responded to a variety of pressures and placements of the performer’s fingers. In 1992 he wrote the first work for the instrument, “Genesis.”
Dominic Inferrara in the title role of John Eaton’s opera “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” at Symphony Space. Ari Mintz for The New York Times
Mr. Eaton took an uncompromising stand on his art. Opera, he believed, should make audiences stretch their musical muscles. As a result, most major opera houses shunned his work, which some critics found technically impressive but impenetrable. He found his primary audiences and support in universities and experimental settings.
“Opera has always been the place where composers have tried out the newest ideas,” he told Capital New York (http://www.capitalnewyork.com/article/culture/2010/06/143360/curious-case-microtonalist-john-eaton) (now part of Politico) in 2010. “Composers today are writing lollipops for the audience.”
John Charles Eaton was born on March 30, 1935, in Bryn Mawr, Pa., and grew up in East Stroudsburg. He studied music at Princeton, earning a bachelor’s degree in 1957 and a master’s two years later.
While in college he wrote his first opera, “Ma Barker,” a chamber work about the notorious Barker crime family. A keen swing pianist, he also led a student jazz group, the Princetonians, who recorded two albums for Columbia Records, “Johnny Eaton and the Princetonians” and “Far Out, Near In.”
After leaving Princeton, he spent more than a decade in Rome, supported by three Prix de Rome fellowships and concert tours with his quartet, the American Jazz Ensemble. In Rome, after writing “Heracles” in a free serial style, he embraced microtonalism as a way to achieve greater expressiveness in his music, a development reflected in his 1966 work “Microtonal Fantasy.”
“We have imprisoned our music in a jailhouse of 12 bars,” Mr. Eaton told Princeton Alumni Weekly (https://books.google.com/books?id=ORdbAAAAYAAJ&pg=RA3-PA26&lpg=RA3-PA26&dq=princeton+alumni+weekly+and+the+tempest+and+john+eaton&source=bl&ots=sZgtiSx6PJ&sig=KzSKGEH2Ghj0BfnQ5T5BdYflLr0&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi8yajsos_JAhUClx4KHc_dAzMQ6AEIHDAA#v=onepage&q=princeton%20alumni%20weekly%20and%20the%20tempest%20and%20john%20eaton&f=false) in 1985, referring to the 12 tones of the octave. “It’s not natural, and it’s not something that’s going to continue.”
This new orientation was reflected in “Myshkin,” (https://vimeo.com/46238640) a large-scale work based on Dostoyevsky’s novel “The Idiot,” commissioned by PBS and broadcast in 1973. Its electronic effects and microtones conveyed the central character’s psychic swerves between rationality and irrationality.
Three more operas in this vein followed — the children’s opera “The Lion and Androcles” (1974), “Danton and Robespierre” (1978) and “The Cry of Clytaemnestra” (1980) — prompting the music critic Andrew Porter to anoint Mr. Eaton “the most interesting opera composer writing in America today.”
“The Cry of Clytaemnestra,” after receiving its premiere at Indiana in 1980, left the confines of academia to receive performances at the Brooklyn Academy of Music and the San Francisco Opera. “The Tempest,” with a libretto by Mr. Porter, had its premiere at the Santa Fe Opera in 1985. In 1990, Mr. Eaton was awarded a so-called genius grant by the MacArthur Foundation.
At the University of Chicago, from which he retired in 2001, Mr. Eaton turned his attention to smaller work, writing for a troupe of his own creation, the Pocket Opera Players. They made their debut in 1993 with the romp “Peer Gynt” and the pocket opera “Let’s Get This Show on the Road, ” a retelling of the biblical creation story.
He composed about a dozen pocket operas, including “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (2010), based on the F. Scott Fitzgerald story about a man who ages in reverse.
In addition to his wife, a singer who often performed his work, he is survived by a daughter, Estela Eaton, who wrote the librettos for several of his operas; a son, Julian; and an older brother, Harold.
Mr. Eaton remained buoyant about the possibilities for opera as a native art form, even though, for most of his career, critics were writing its epitaph. “American opera does not need to be saved,” he told The New York Times in 1985, “it only needs to be done.”
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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John Eaton, Composer and Electronic Innovator, Dies at 80 – The New York Times
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/13/arts/music/john-eaton-composer-and-electronic-innovator-dies-at-80.html?_r=0
** John Eaton, Composer and Electronic Innovator, Dies at 80
————————————————————
By WILLIAM GRIMES (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/g/william_grimes/index.html) DEC. 12, 2015
John Eaton in 2004. He was a pioneer of synthesized music. Suzanne DeChillo/The New York Times
John Eaton, an avant-garde composer of operas both grandiose and chamber-size and an early proponent of synthesizer music, died on Dec. 2 in Manhattan. He was 80.
The cause was complications of a brain hemorrhage, said his wife, Nelda Nelson-Eaton. He had fallen on Dec. 1 while walking to St. Peter’s Church in Midtown for a performance of his work “Fantasy Romance” for cello and piano.
Mr. Eaton, who studied composition at Princeton with Milton Babbitt, Edward T. Cone and Roger Sessions, wrote music in a variety of forms but was best known for his operas, many of them envisioned on a colossal scale and written microtonally — that is, using the quarter-tone intervals between the 12 semitones of the Western octave.
“Heracles,” a tragic opera about Hercules and the poisoned robe of Nessus, required 300 performers. Its premiere, in 1972, inaugurated the Musical Arts Center at Indiana University, where Mr. Eaton taught for more than 20 years and directed the Center for Electronic and Computer Music. His “Danton and Robespierre,” a seething drama set in the French Revolution, had 40 solo roles, a chorus of 250 and an orchestra of 150. It was first performed at Indiana in 1980.
After succeeding Ralph Shapey (http://www.nytimes.com/2002/06/14/business/ralph-shapey-81-composer-evoking-conflicting-impulses.html) as teacher of composition at the University of Chicago in 1992, Mr. Eaton concentrated on short staged works for a handful of performers that he called “pocket operas” and a new genre he called “romps for instrumentalists,” in which costumed performers took on dramatic roles while playing their instruments.
While studying in Rome in the early 1960s he became intrigued by the Fonosynth (https://www.google.com/search?q=fonosynth&biw=1680&bih=881&tbm=isch&imgil=an_Zudkq2_2wEM%253A%253BYb95eQbPait1IM%253Bhttp%25253A%25252F%25252F120years.net%25252Fthe-fonosynth-paul-ketoff-paolo-ketoff-julian-strini-gino-marinuzzi-jr-italy-1958%25252F&source=iu&pf=m&fir=an_Zudkq2_2wEM%253A%252CYb95eQbPait1IM%252C_&usg=__M2N0NyKHnvFtE7qm3tuIKsfpcIw%3D&ved=0ahUKEwiIp6_Voc_JAhXFWh4KHREiBAUQyjcIJw&ei=dl9oVoiUNsW1eZHEkCg#imgrc=an_Zudkq2_2wEM%3A&usg=__M2N0NyKHnvFtE7qm3tuIKsfpcIw%3D) , a large synthesizer at the American Academy of Rome designed by the Polish-Italian sound engineer Paolo Ketoff. He helped Mr. Ketoff develop a portable version, the Synket, and used it to give some of the first live performances of electronic music on a synthesizer.
“I went all over the world with the Synket, giving more than 1,000 concerts,” Mr. Eaton said in a 2013 interview (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gf0ckA5zxP0) at the Museum of Making Music, in Carlsbad, Calif. “I was the first electronic troubadour.” The synthesizer was featured in his 1966 composition “Concert Piece for Synket and Symphony Orchestra.”
He later worked for 20 years with Robert Moog, the inventor of the Moog synthesizer, to develop the Eaton-Moog Multiple-Touch-Sensitive Keyboard, a synthesizer that responded to a variety of pressures and placements of the performer’s fingers. In 1992 he wrote the first work for the instrument, “Genesis.”
Dominic Inferrara in the title role of John Eaton’s opera “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” at Symphony Space. Ari Mintz for The New York Times
Mr. Eaton took an uncompromising stand on his art. Opera, he believed, should make audiences stretch their musical muscles. As a result, most major opera houses shunned his work, which some critics found technically impressive but impenetrable. He found his primary audiences and support in universities and experimental settings.
“Opera has always been the place where composers have tried out the newest ideas,” he told Capital New York (http://www.capitalnewyork.com/article/culture/2010/06/143360/curious-case-microtonalist-john-eaton) (now part of Politico) in 2010. “Composers today are writing lollipops for the audience.”
John Charles Eaton was born on March 30, 1935, in Bryn Mawr, Pa., and grew up in East Stroudsburg. He studied music at Princeton, earning a bachelor’s degree in 1957 and a master’s two years later.
While in college he wrote his first opera, “Ma Barker,” a chamber work about the notorious Barker crime family. A keen swing pianist, he also led a student jazz group, the Princetonians, who recorded two albums for Columbia Records, “Johnny Eaton and the Princetonians” and “Far Out, Near In.”
After leaving Princeton, he spent more than a decade in Rome, supported by three Prix de Rome fellowships and concert tours with his quartet, the American Jazz Ensemble. In Rome, after writing “Heracles” in a free serial style, he embraced microtonalism as a way to achieve greater expressiveness in his music, a development reflected in his 1966 work “Microtonal Fantasy.”
“We have imprisoned our music in a jailhouse of 12 bars,” Mr. Eaton told Princeton Alumni Weekly (https://books.google.com/books?id=ORdbAAAAYAAJ&pg=RA3-PA26&lpg=RA3-PA26&dq=princeton+alumni+weekly+and+the+tempest+and+john+eaton&source=bl&ots=sZgtiSx6PJ&sig=KzSKGEH2Ghj0BfnQ5T5BdYflLr0&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi8yajsos_JAhUClx4KHc_dAzMQ6AEIHDAA#v=onepage&q=princeton%20alumni%20weekly%20and%20the%20tempest%20and%20john%20eaton&f=false) in 1985, referring to the 12 tones of the octave. “It’s not natural, and it’s not something that’s going to continue.”
This new orientation was reflected in “Myshkin,” (https://vimeo.com/46238640) a large-scale work based on Dostoyevsky’s novel “The Idiot,” commissioned by PBS and broadcast in 1973. Its electronic effects and microtones conveyed the central character’s psychic swerves between rationality and irrationality.
Three more operas in this vein followed — the children’s opera “The Lion and Androcles” (1974), “Danton and Robespierre” (1978) and “The Cry of Clytaemnestra” (1980) — prompting the music critic Andrew Porter to anoint Mr. Eaton “the most interesting opera composer writing in America today.”
“The Cry of Clytaemnestra,” after receiving its premiere at Indiana in 1980, left the confines of academia to receive performances at the Brooklyn Academy of Music and the San Francisco Opera. “The Tempest,” with a libretto by Mr. Porter, had its premiere at the Santa Fe Opera in 1985. In 1990, Mr. Eaton was awarded a so-called genius grant by the MacArthur Foundation.
At the University of Chicago, from which he retired in 2001, Mr. Eaton turned his attention to smaller work, writing for a troupe of his own creation, the Pocket Opera Players. They made their debut in 1993 with the romp “Peer Gynt” and the pocket opera “Let’s Get This Show on the Road, ” a retelling of the biblical creation story.
He composed about a dozen pocket operas, including “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (2010), based on the F. Scott Fitzgerald story about a man who ages in reverse.
In addition to his wife, a singer who often performed his work, he is survived by a daughter, Estela Eaton, who wrote the librettos for several of his operas; a son, Julian; and an older brother, Harold.
Mr. Eaton remained buoyant about the possibilities for opera as a native art form, even though, for most of his career, critics were writing its epitaph. “American opera does not need to be saved,” he told The New York Times in 1985, “it only needs to be done.”
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
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How ‘New York, New York’ Went to the Top of the Heap – The New York Times
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/12/sports/baseball/how-new-york-new-york-became-a-no-1-at-yankees-games.html?ref=baseball
** How ‘New York, New York’ Went to the Top of the Heap
————————————————————
By JOE NOCERA (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/opinion/editorialsandoped/oped/columnists/joenocera/index.html) DEC. 11, 2015
Frank Sinatra, left, with the Yankees’ Phil Rizzuto in 1949. Sinatra’s rendition of “New York, New York” has played over the loudspeakers at Yankee Stadium since 1980. Kidwiler Collection/Diamond Images, via Getty Images
Joe Nocera is the new sports business columnist for The New York Times. You can read more of his columns here (http://www.nytimes.com/by/joe-nocera) .
After the final out of every game at Yankee Stadium, the Yankees (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/sports/baseball/majorleague/newyorkyankees/index.html?inline=nyt-org) pipe Frank Sinatra (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/s/frank_sinatra/index.html?inline=nyt-per) ’s last great hit, “New York, New York (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXNkVrS8DnQ) ,” over the loudspeakers. The tradition, through all of its permutations, is now 35 years old; George Steinbrenner, the Cleveland shipbuilder who bought the team in 1973, started playing it during the 1980 season, a few months after Sinatra released his recording of the song on his otherwise muddled three-record album, “Trilogy: Past Present Future.” (http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/magazine-feature/6715343/frank-sinatra-making-of-trilogy-triple-album-the-future-misfire)
“New York, New York” has since become so closely associated with the Yankees (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/sports/baseball/majorleague/newyorkyankees/index.html?inline=nyt-org) that many consider it the team’s anthem.
With the Sinatra centennial upon us — start spreading the news: his birth date was Dec. 12, 1915 — I began wondering about the genesis of the Yankees’ decision to play “New York, New York” after every game. What I discovered was that it’s not just a story about Steinbrenner (“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere”), or Sinatra (“king of the hill, top of the heap”), or the Yankees (“I want to be part of it, New York, New York”). It’s also a story about New York City itself.
Sinatra sang “New York, New York” defiantly. After the 1970s, it was just what New Yorkers needed to hear. John Sotomayor/The New York Times
The first time Sinatra “officially” sang “Theme From New York, New York” — that’s its full title — was on Sept. 13, 1978, at Radio City Music Hall. (Although he had tried it out earlier at a charity event at the Waldorf Astoria, most Sinatra historians discount that effort because he sang it as if he were still rehearsing.) Jonathan Schwartz (http://www.wnyc.org/shows/jonathan-schwartz/) , the WNYC radio personality who knows as much about Sinatra’s music as any other person alive, was there.
“Sinatra looked over at Falcone” — Vincent Falcone, at the piano, was his new musical director — “and said, ‘What’s the first line?’ ” Schwartz recalled the other day. “Start spreading the news,” Falcone replied. “Shoot,” Sinatra said to the orchestra, signaling it to begin. When he started singing, the crowd was electrified. “It just hit with people,” Schwartz said. “It was a triumphant song, at a time when New York wasn’t feeling much triumph.”
New York indeed was a troubled city in the late 1970s: crime-ridden, graffiti-strewn and broke. In 1975, The Daily News wrote the headline “Ford to City: Drop Dead.”
Right from the first bar, Don Costa’s arrangement of “New York, New York” — first the cymbals, then five emphatic notes from the brass section — has a defiant tone. Taking his cue from those opening bars, Sinatra sang it defiantly. It was just what New Yorkers needed. The song told them (http://www.lyricsfreak.com/f/frank+sinatra/new+york+new+york_20056380.html) that whatever their city’s current problems, New York was still the greatest city in the world, the place where the most ambitious people wanted — nay, needed — to be, and while it might be the toughest place in America to achieve success, it was also the most satisfying. Although Sinatra never lived full time in New York (he did own Cole Porter’s old apartment in the Waldorf), he absolutely understood what New York stood for.
“Growing up in Hoboken, he used to go to the waterfront and stare across at the emerald city,” said James Kaplan (http://jameskaplan.net/about-the-author/) , who recently published “Sinatra: The Chairman,” the second volume of his magisterial biography. “Back then, you had to take the ferry to get to the city. Sometimes Sinatra would take the ferry to Manhattan and then hit all the jazz joints. Billie Holiday was his idol. They were the same age, but she was famous and he was unknown.”
By the time he recorded “New York, New York,” Sinatra was Ol’ Blue Eyes, the Chairman of the Board, the central figure in the Rat Pack whose every dalliance, real or imagined, was chronicled in the gossip columns, and a source of immense pride for the generation of Italian-Americans who came of age during and after World War II. Even though rock ’n’ roll had overtaken the Great American Songbook — a trend that completely flustered him — Sinatra was still the most famous singer in America. In his early 60s, when he started singing “New York, New York,” his voice was huskier than when he was making his great 1950s-era albums. But he still had it — and then some.
The Yankees’ principal owner, George Steinbrenner, right, with Reggie Jackson in 1980, was said to love the line, ‘King of the hill, top of the heap.” Associated Press
And he loved the song. “The song meant so much to him on so many levels,” Kaplan said. “It described his own sense of triumph in what he had become.” Sinatra once described it as “one of the most exciting pieces of music of all of my years.” He had come to despise “My Way,” (http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB124389543795174079) his longtime signature song. It wasn’t long before “New York, New York” replaced “My Way” as his concert finale. Although most of the songs in “Trilogy” quickly faded, “New York, New York” had staying power.
Theme From a Failed Film
George Steinbrenner always loved music. As a young man working for his father’s shipbuilding company, he would regularly visit cities along Lake Erie where the company did business. Jim Naples, who is now the house manager for the Metropolitan Opera, first met Steinbrenner when he was 12 or 13 in Buffalo, because his father had an association with a club called the Royal Arms, where Steinbrenner would go to hear jazz whenever he was in town. Naples’s father and Steinbrenner became friends.
Once he bought the Yankees, Steinbrenner quickly became a devotee of the Manhattan joints where the “swells” hung out, most notably at Jimmy Weston’s (http://www.nytimes.com/1997/02/08/nyregion/jimmy-weston-is-dead-at-74-genial-host-of-a-supper-club.html) , a dinner club on East 54th Street that booked jazz musicians, and which The New York Times later described as “a latter-day Toots Shor’s.” In addition to Steinbrenner, its regulars included Howard Cosell, Muhammad Ali, Leo Durocher and Tony Bennett. And, of course, Sinatra. Although Steinbrenner and Sinatra came to know each other, and Steinbrenner had a signed photograph of Sinatra on his office wall, they were not close. On the coasts, Sinatra had his entourage, and was not looking to expand it.
(A quick aside: Sinatra loved sports, especially boxing and baseball. One night, Naples said, the Yankees, unable to get to an away game because of the weather, went into Patsy’s, the Midtown Italian restaurant, for dinner. Sinatra, who was also there, picked up the tab for the entire team.)
Steinbrenner also frequented a New York disco called Le Club; Marty Appel, the former head of public relations for the Yankees with a deep knowledge of Yankees history, said that was where he discovered “New York, New York.”
Get the latest tweets from @NYTSports (https://twitter.com/nytsports) , including breaking news, analysis and live updates.
“Theme From New York, New York,” by the great songwriting team of John Kander and Fred Ebb (http://www.allmusic.com/artist/kander-ebb-mn0001874084/biography) (“Cabaret,” “Chicago”), was written for the 1977 film “New York, New York.” Directed by Martin Scorsese, it starred Robert De Niro and Liza Minnelli as young, striving musicians. Although Minnelli recorded “New York, New York” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgusCINe260) before Sinatra, the movie was a flop and her recording went nowhere.
Continue reading the main story
(Aside No. 2: When Kander and Ebb first played the movie’s songs for De Niro, Minnelli and Scorsese, De Niro expressed dissatisfaction with the lead number, saying it wasn’t good enough to serve as a repeated motif throughout the film. To placate his star, Scorsese gently asked the songwriters to try again. Though mildly annoyed, the two men raced back to Ebb’s house and dashed off “New York, New York” in 45 minutes. “I recently had an opportunity to hear the original song we wrote for the film,” Kander told me. “It is terrible. De Niro was completely right.”)
A Tradition Is Born
The way Appel tells the story, a disc jockey at Le Club whom Steinbrenner had befriended started sending him tapes of music that Steinbrenner could play at Yankees games; the idea of using music to keep fans occupied between innings was just taking hold. One of the songs he sent was “New York, New York.” “Mr. Steinbrenner loved the words, ‘king of the hill, top of the heap,’ ” Appel said recently. And why wouldn’t he? The once-obscure Cleveland shipbuilder had transformed himself into the most famous owner in baseball.
At some point in 1980, Appel said, “Mr. Steinbrenner said, ‘You know what — we got to do it,’ ” meaning play the song after every game. But which version should the team use? By then, Naples was working for the Yankees; Steinbrenner told Naples and another young employee to play both versions over the loudspeakers, then make a decision. They agreed that Sinatra’s take better suited the Yankees than Minnelli’s version, which had more of a Broadway feel. Steinbrenner agreed. And so the tradition began.
When the Yankees started playing “New York, New York” during the 1980 season, it resonated with New Yorkers even more than when Sinatra sang it at Radio City Music Hall two years earlier. New York was seeing its first glimmers of hope. In April, the city’s transit workers went on strike. New York’s feisty mayor, Ed Koch, would go to the Brooklyn Bridge and urge on the thousands of people who were walking into Manhattan to get to work. “He would say, ‘Go to work everybody,’ ” said Neil Barsky, the chairman of The Marshall Project, who directed the documentary “Koch.” “ ‘We’re not going to let those bums bring us to our knees.’ He rallied the city.”
Then there were the Yankees themselves, one of the few bright spots during those dark days. Steinbrenner was brash and volatile, outspoken and irascible; if Sinatra was the Chairman of the Board, Steinbrenner was the Boss. He had more than his share of detractors. But he was also willing to spend money like no owner before him, using free agency to build a great team. In 1977 and 1978, the Yankees, led by Reggie Jackson, Ron Guidry and Thurman Munson, won the World Series. They had another good year in 1980, going 103-59, only to lose to the Kansas City Royals in the American League Championship Series. “The Yankees provided great theater for New Yorkers in those days,” Barsky said. When the fans walked out of Yankee Stadium after another win, those lyrics ringing in their ears, they could finally feel optimistic about their city. All of New York was starting to feel it.
Another Voice Banished
At some point — nobody knows when — the Yankees’ music programmer started another tradition. The team would play the Sinatra recording when the team won, but the Minnelli version after a loss. Jonathan Schwartz realized this, and so did Paul McKibbins, Kander and Ebb’s musical administrator. (Ebb died in 2004.) One day, during a casual lunch, he happened to mention what he had noticed to a Yankees team lawyer. “The man turned white,” McKibbins said. Very quickly, the Minnelli version was banished, and the team played only Sinatra’s “New York, New York,” win or lose.
(Aside No. 3: McKibbins declined to tell me how much the songwriters make in royalties from the Yankees. He did say, however, that the tune “makes significant money for the guys.” The main competition for “New York, New York,” he added, is the Billy Joel song “New York State of Mind,” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ol0dPJdzm1M_) which the Mets used to play after every home game but stopped in 2008.)
In 1996, after the Yankees beat the Atlanta Braves to win the World Series for the first time in 18 years — it was Derek Jeter’s rookie season — the fans celebrated (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dku7dLFhBw) by singing “New York, New York” over and over again. Although Liza Minnelli sang the song at Shea Stadium after 9/11, and the New York City Marathon (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/subjects/n/new_york_city_marathon/index.html?inline=nyt-classifier) began playing it before the start of the race in Staten Island — also after 9/11 — the song’s association with the Yankees has never diminished. Appel recalled that on Sept. 21, 2008, after the last game at the old Stadium, “they must have played it 30 times; people didn’t want to leave.”
The tradition is unlikely to change anytime soon. “The song is an anthem to the city, and the hardworking people who live in it,” said Randy Levine, the president of the Yankees.
But let’s let Steinbrenner have the last word. In 2005, five years before his death (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/14/sports/baseball/14steinbrenner.html) , he was interviewed by Michael Kay for the YES Network. At one point, Kay asked him to name his favorite song.
“Anything Sinatra does,” Steinbrenner said. King of the hill. Top of the heap.
Correction: December 11, 2015
An earlier version of this article misstated a famous headline from The Daily News. It was “Ford to City: Drop Dead,” not “Ford to New York: Drop Dead.”
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
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How ‘New York, New York’ Went to the Top of the Heap – The New York Times
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/12/sports/baseball/how-new-york-new-york-became-a-no-1-at-yankees-games.html?ref=baseball
** How ‘New York, New York’ Went to the Top of the Heap
————————————————————
By JOE NOCERA (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/opinion/editorialsandoped/oped/columnists/joenocera/index.html) DEC. 11, 2015
Frank Sinatra, left, with the Yankees’ Phil Rizzuto in 1949. Sinatra’s rendition of “New York, New York” has played over the loudspeakers at Yankee Stadium since 1980. Kidwiler Collection/Diamond Images, via Getty Images
Joe Nocera is the new sports business columnist for The New York Times. You can read more of his columns here (http://www.nytimes.com/by/joe-nocera) .
After the final out of every game at Yankee Stadium, the Yankees (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/sports/baseball/majorleague/newyorkyankees/index.html?inline=nyt-org) pipe Frank Sinatra (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/s/frank_sinatra/index.html?inline=nyt-per) ’s last great hit, “New York, New York (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXNkVrS8DnQ) ,” over the loudspeakers. The tradition, through all of its permutations, is now 35 years old; George Steinbrenner, the Cleveland shipbuilder who bought the team in 1973, started playing it during the 1980 season, a few months after Sinatra released his recording of the song on his otherwise muddled three-record album, “Trilogy: Past Present Future.” (http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/magazine-feature/6715343/frank-sinatra-making-of-trilogy-triple-album-the-future-misfire)
“New York, New York” has since become so closely associated with the Yankees (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/sports/baseball/majorleague/newyorkyankees/index.html?inline=nyt-org) that many consider it the team’s anthem.
With the Sinatra centennial upon us — start spreading the news: his birth date was Dec. 12, 1915 — I began wondering about the genesis of the Yankees’ decision to play “New York, New York” after every game. What I discovered was that it’s not just a story about Steinbrenner (“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere”), or Sinatra (“king of the hill, top of the heap”), or the Yankees (“I want to be part of it, New York, New York”). It’s also a story about New York City itself.
Sinatra sang “New York, New York” defiantly. After the 1970s, it was just what New Yorkers needed to hear. John Sotomayor/The New York Times
The first time Sinatra “officially” sang “Theme From New York, New York” — that’s its full title — was on Sept. 13, 1978, at Radio City Music Hall. (Although he had tried it out earlier at a charity event at the Waldorf Astoria, most Sinatra historians discount that effort because he sang it as if he were still rehearsing.) Jonathan Schwartz (http://www.wnyc.org/shows/jonathan-schwartz/) , the WNYC radio personality who knows as much about Sinatra’s music as any other person alive, was there.
“Sinatra looked over at Falcone” — Vincent Falcone, at the piano, was his new musical director — “and said, ‘What’s the first line?’ ” Schwartz recalled the other day. “Start spreading the news,” Falcone replied. “Shoot,” Sinatra said to the orchestra, signaling it to begin. When he started singing, the crowd was electrified. “It just hit with people,” Schwartz said. “It was a triumphant song, at a time when New York wasn’t feeling much triumph.”
New York indeed was a troubled city in the late 1970s: crime-ridden, graffiti-strewn and broke. In 1975, The Daily News wrote the headline “Ford to City: Drop Dead.”
Right from the first bar, Don Costa’s arrangement of “New York, New York” — first the cymbals, then five emphatic notes from the brass section — has a defiant tone. Taking his cue from those opening bars, Sinatra sang it defiantly. It was just what New Yorkers needed. The song told them (http://www.lyricsfreak.com/f/frank+sinatra/new+york+new+york_20056380.html) that whatever their city’s current problems, New York was still the greatest city in the world, the place where the most ambitious people wanted — nay, needed — to be, and while it might be the toughest place in America to achieve success, it was also the most satisfying. Although Sinatra never lived full time in New York (he did own Cole Porter’s old apartment in the Waldorf), he absolutely understood what New York stood for.
“Growing up in Hoboken, he used to go to the waterfront and stare across at the emerald city,” said James Kaplan (http://jameskaplan.net/about-the-author/) , who recently published “Sinatra: The Chairman,” the second volume of his magisterial biography. “Back then, you had to take the ferry to get to the city. Sometimes Sinatra would take the ferry to Manhattan and then hit all the jazz joints. Billie Holiday was his idol. They were the same age, but she was famous and he was unknown.”
By the time he recorded “New York, New York,” Sinatra was Ol’ Blue Eyes, the Chairman of the Board, the central figure in the Rat Pack whose every dalliance, real or imagined, was chronicled in the gossip columns, and a source of immense pride for the generation of Italian-Americans who came of age during and after World War II. Even though rock ’n’ roll had overtaken the Great American Songbook — a trend that completely flustered him — Sinatra was still the most famous singer in America. In his early 60s, when he started singing “New York, New York,” his voice was huskier than when he was making his great 1950s-era albums. But he still had it — and then some.
The Yankees’ principal owner, George Steinbrenner, right, with Reggie Jackson in 1980, was said to love the line, ‘King of the hill, top of the heap.” Associated Press
And he loved the song. “The song meant so much to him on so many levels,” Kaplan said. “It described his own sense of triumph in what he had become.” Sinatra once described it as “one of the most exciting pieces of music of all of my years.” He had come to despise “My Way,” (http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB124389543795174079) his longtime signature song. It wasn’t long before “New York, New York” replaced “My Way” as his concert finale. Although most of the songs in “Trilogy” quickly faded, “New York, New York” had staying power.
Theme From a Failed Film
George Steinbrenner always loved music. As a young man working for his father’s shipbuilding company, he would regularly visit cities along Lake Erie where the company did business. Jim Naples, who is now the house manager for the Metropolitan Opera, first met Steinbrenner when he was 12 or 13 in Buffalo, because his father had an association with a club called the Royal Arms, where Steinbrenner would go to hear jazz whenever he was in town. Naples’s father and Steinbrenner became friends.
Once he bought the Yankees, Steinbrenner quickly became a devotee of the Manhattan joints where the “swells” hung out, most notably at Jimmy Weston’s (http://www.nytimes.com/1997/02/08/nyregion/jimmy-weston-is-dead-at-74-genial-host-of-a-supper-club.html) , a dinner club on East 54th Street that booked jazz musicians, and which The New York Times later described as “a latter-day Toots Shor’s.” In addition to Steinbrenner, its regulars included Howard Cosell, Muhammad Ali, Leo Durocher and Tony Bennett. And, of course, Sinatra. Although Steinbrenner and Sinatra came to know each other, and Steinbrenner had a signed photograph of Sinatra on his office wall, they were not close. On the coasts, Sinatra had his entourage, and was not looking to expand it.
(A quick aside: Sinatra loved sports, especially boxing and baseball. One night, Naples said, the Yankees, unable to get to an away game because of the weather, went into Patsy’s, the Midtown Italian restaurant, for dinner. Sinatra, who was also there, picked up the tab for the entire team.)
Steinbrenner also frequented a New York disco called Le Club; Marty Appel, the former head of public relations for the Yankees with a deep knowledge of Yankees history, said that was where he discovered “New York, New York.”
Get the latest tweets from @NYTSports (https://twitter.com/nytsports) , including breaking news, analysis and live updates.
“Theme From New York, New York,” by the great songwriting team of John Kander and Fred Ebb (http://www.allmusic.com/artist/kander-ebb-mn0001874084/biography) (“Cabaret,” “Chicago”), was written for the 1977 film “New York, New York.” Directed by Martin Scorsese, it starred Robert De Niro and Liza Minnelli as young, striving musicians. Although Minnelli recorded “New York, New York” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgusCINe260) before Sinatra, the movie was a flop and her recording went nowhere.
Continue reading the main story
(Aside No. 2: When Kander and Ebb first played the movie’s songs for De Niro, Minnelli and Scorsese, De Niro expressed dissatisfaction with the lead number, saying it wasn’t good enough to serve as a repeated motif throughout the film. To placate his star, Scorsese gently asked the songwriters to try again. Though mildly annoyed, the two men raced back to Ebb’s house and dashed off “New York, New York” in 45 minutes. “I recently had an opportunity to hear the original song we wrote for the film,” Kander told me. “It is terrible. De Niro was completely right.”)
A Tradition Is Born
The way Appel tells the story, a disc jockey at Le Club whom Steinbrenner had befriended started sending him tapes of music that Steinbrenner could play at Yankees games; the idea of using music to keep fans occupied between innings was just taking hold. One of the songs he sent was “New York, New York.” “Mr. Steinbrenner loved the words, ‘king of the hill, top of the heap,’ ” Appel said recently. And why wouldn’t he? The once-obscure Cleveland shipbuilder had transformed himself into the most famous owner in baseball.
At some point in 1980, Appel said, “Mr. Steinbrenner said, ‘You know what — we got to do it,’ ” meaning play the song after every game. But which version should the team use? By then, Naples was working for the Yankees; Steinbrenner told Naples and another young employee to play both versions over the loudspeakers, then make a decision. They agreed that Sinatra’s take better suited the Yankees than Minnelli’s version, which had more of a Broadway feel. Steinbrenner agreed. And so the tradition began.
When the Yankees started playing “New York, New York” during the 1980 season, it resonated with New Yorkers even more than when Sinatra sang it at Radio City Music Hall two years earlier. New York was seeing its first glimmers of hope. In April, the city’s transit workers went on strike. New York’s feisty mayor, Ed Koch, would go to the Brooklyn Bridge and urge on the thousands of people who were walking into Manhattan to get to work. “He would say, ‘Go to work everybody,’ ” said Neil Barsky, the chairman of The Marshall Project, who directed the documentary “Koch.” “ ‘We’re not going to let those bums bring us to our knees.’ He rallied the city.”
Then there were the Yankees themselves, one of the few bright spots during those dark days. Steinbrenner was brash and volatile, outspoken and irascible; if Sinatra was the Chairman of the Board, Steinbrenner was the Boss. He had more than his share of detractors. But he was also willing to spend money like no owner before him, using free agency to build a great team. In 1977 and 1978, the Yankees, led by Reggie Jackson, Ron Guidry and Thurman Munson, won the World Series. They had another good year in 1980, going 103-59, only to lose to the Kansas City Royals in the American League Championship Series. “The Yankees provided great theater for New Yorkers in those days,” Barsky said. When the fans walked out of Yankee Stadium after another win, those lyrics ringing in their ears, they could finally feel optimistic about their city. All of New York was starting to feel it.
Another Voice Banished
At some point — nobody knows when — the Yankees’ music programmer started another tradition. The team would play the Sinatra recording when the team won, but the Minnelli version after a loss. Jonathan Schwartz realized this, and so did Paul McKibbins, Kander and Ebb’s musical administrator. (Ebb died in 2004.) One day, during a casual lunch, he happened to mention what he had noticed to a Yankees team lawyer. “The man turned white,” McKibbins said. Very quickly, the Minnelli version was banished, and the team played only Sinatra’s “New York, New York,” win or lose.
(Aside No. 3: McKibbins declined to tell me how much the songwriters make in royalties from the Yankees. He did say, however, that the tune “makes significant money for the guys.” The main competition for “New York, New York,” he added, is the Billy Joel song “New York State of Mind,” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ol0dPJdzm1M_) which the Mets used to play after every home game but stopped in 2008.)
In 1996, after the Yankees beat the Atlanta Braves to win the World Series for the first time in 18 years — it was Derek Jeter’s rookie season — the fans celebrated (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dku7dLFhBw) by singing “New York, New York” over and over again. Although Liza Minnelli sang the song at Shea Stadium after 9/11, and the New York City Marathon (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/subjects/n/new_york_city_marathon/index.html?inline=nyt-classifier) began playing it before the start of the race in Staten Island — also after 9/11 — the song’s association with the Yankees has never diminished. Appel recalled that on Sept. 21, 2008, after the last game at the old Stadium, “they must have played it 30 times; people didn’t want to leave.”
The tradition is unlikely to change anytime soon. “The song is an anthem to the city, and the hardworking people who live in it,” said Randy Levine, the president of the Yankees.
But let’s let Steinbrenner have the last word. In 2005, five years before his death (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/14/sports/baseball/14steinbrenner.html) , he was interviewed by Michael Kay for the YES Network. At one point, Kay asked him to name his favorite song.
“Anything Sinatra does,” Steinbrenner said. King of the hill. Top of the heap.
Correction: December 11, 2015
An earlier version of this article misstated a famous headline from The Daily News. It was “Ford to City: Drop Dead,” not “Ford to New York: Drop Dead.”
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
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PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE ON THIS MAILING LIST PLEASE RESPOND WITH ‘REMOVE’ IN THE SUBJECT LINE. IF YOU ARE RECEIVING DUPLICATE EMAILS OUR APOLOGIES, JAZZ PROMO SERVICES ANNOUNCEMENT LIST IS GROWING LARGER EVERY DAY…..PLEASE LET US KNOW AND WE WILL FIX IT IMMEDIATELY!
Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
How ‘New York, New York’ Went to the Top of the Heap – The New York Times
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/12/sports/baseball/how-new-york-new-york-became-a-no-1-at-yankees-games.html?ref=baseball
** How ‘New York, New York’ Went to the Top of the Heap
————————————————————
By JOE NOCERA (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/opinion/editorialsandoped/oped/columnists/joenocera/index.html) DEC. 11, 2015
Frank Sinatra, left, with the Yankees’ Phil Rizzuto in 1949. Sinatra’s rendition of “New York, New York” has played over the loudspeakers at Yankee Stadium since 1980. Kidwiler Collection/Diamond Images, via Getty Images
Joe Nocera is the new sports business columnist for The New York Times. You can read more of his columns here (http://www.nytimes.com/by/joe-nocera) .
After the final out of every game at Yankee Stadium, the Yankees (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/sports/baseball/majorleague/newyorkyankees/index.html?inline=nyt-org) pipe Frank Sinatra (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/s/frank_sinatra/index.html?inline=nyt-per) ’s last great hit, “New York, New York (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXNkVrS8DnQ) ,” over the loudspeakers. The tradition, through all of its permutations, is now 35 years old; George Steinbrenner, the Cleveland shipbuilder who bought the team in 1973, started playing it during the 1980 season, a few months after Sinatra released his recording of the song on his otherwise muddled three-record album, “Trilogy: Past Present Future.” (http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/magazine-feature/6715343/frank-sinatra-making-of-trilogy-triple-album-the-future-misfire)
“New York, New York” has since become so closely associated with the Yankees (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/news/sports/baseball/majorleague/newyorkyankees/index.html?inline=nyt-org) that many consider it the team’s anthem.
With the Sinatra centennial upon us — start spreading the news: his birth date was Dec. 12, 1915 — I began wondering about the genesis of the Yankees’ decision to play “New York, New York” after every game. What I discovered was that it’s not just a story about Steinbrenner (“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere”), or Sinatra (“king of the hill, top of the heap”), or the Yankees (“I want to be part of it, New York, New York”). It’s also a story about New York City itself.
Sinatra sang “New York, New York” defiantly. After the 1970s, it was just what New Yorkers needed to hear. John Sotomayor/The New York Times
The first time Sinatra “officially” sang “Theme From New York, New York” — that’s its full title — was on Sept. 13, 1978, at Radio City Music Hall. (Although he had tried it out earlier at a charity event at the Waldorf Astoria, most Sinatra historians discount that effort because he sang it as if he were still rehearsing.) Jonathan Schwartz (http://www.wnyc.org/shows/jonathan-schwartz/) , the WNYC radio personality who knows as much about Sinatra’s music as any other person alive, was there.
“Sinatra looked over at Falcone” — Vincent Falcone, at the piano, was his new musical director — “and said, ‘What’s the first line?’ ” Schwartz recalled the other day. “Start spreading the news,” Falcone replied. “Shoot,” Sinatra said to the orchestra, signaling it to begin. When he started singing, the crowd was electrified. “It just hit with people,” Schwartz said. “It was a triumphant song, at a time when New York wasn’t feeling much triumph.”
New York indeed was a troubled city in the late 1970s: crime-ridden, graffiti-strewn and broke. In 1975, The Daily News wrote the headline “Ford to City: Drop Dead.”
Right from the first bar, Don Costa’s arrangement of “New York, New York” — first the cymbals, then five emphatic notes from the brass section — has a defiant tone. Taking his cue from those opening bars, Sinatra sang it defiantly. It was just what New Yorkers needed. The song told them (http://www.lyricsfreak.com/f/frank+sinatra/new+york+new+york_20056380.html) that whatever their city’s current problems, New York was still the greatest city in the world, the place where the most ambitious people wanted — nay, needed — to be, and while it might be the toughest place in America to achieve success, it was also the most satisfying. Although Sinatra never lived full time in New York (he did own Cole Porter’s old apartment in the Waldorf), he absolutely understood what New York stood for.
“Growing up in Hoboken, he used to go to the waterfront and stare across at the emerald city,” said James Kaplan (http://jameskaplan.net/about-the-author/) , who recently published “Sinatra: The Chairman,” the second volume of his magisterial biography. “Back then, you had to take the ferry to get to the city. Sometimes Sinatra would take the ferry to Manhattan and then hit all the jazz joints. Billie Holiday was his idol. They were the same age, but she was famous and he was unknown.”
By the time he recorded “New York, New York,” Sinatra was Ol’ Blue Eyes, the Chairman of the Board, the central figure in the Rat Pack whose every dalliance, real or imagined, was chronicled in the gossip columns, and a source of immense pride for the generation of Italian-Americans who came of age during and after World War II. Even though rock ’n’ roll had overtaken the Great American Songbook — a trend that completely flustered him — Sinatra was still the most famous singer in America. In his early 60s, when he started singing “New York, New York,” his voice was huskier than when he was making his great 1950s-era albums. But he still had it — and then some.
The Yankees’ principal owner, George Steinbrenner, right, with Reggie Jackson in 1980, was said to love the line, ‘King of the hill, top of the heap.” Associated Press
And he loved the song. “The song meant so much to him on so many levels,” Kaplan said. “It described his own sense of triumph in what he had become.” Sinatra once described it as “one of the most exciting pieces of music of all of my years.” He had come to despise “My Way,” (http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB124389543795174079) his longtime signature song. It wasn’t long before “New York, New York” replaced “My Way” as his concert finale. Although most of the songs in “Trilogy” quickly faded, “New York, New York” had staying power.
Theme From a Failed Film
George Steinbrenner always loved music. As a young man working for his father’s shipbuilding company, he would regularly visit cities along Lake Erie where the company did business. Jim Naples, who is now the house manager for the Metropolitan Opera, first met Steinbrenner when he was 12 or 13 in Buffalo, because his father had an association with a club called the Royal Arms, where Steinbrenner would go to hear jazz whenever he was in town. Naples’s father and Steinbrenner became friends.
Once he bought the Yankees, Steinbrenner quickly became a devotee of the Manhattan joints where the “swells” hung out, most notably at Jimmy Weston’s (http://www.nytimes.com/1997/02/08/nyregion/jimmy-weston-is-dead-at-74-genial-host-of-a-supper-club.html) , a dinner club on East 54th Street that booked jazz musicians, and which The New York Times later described as “a latter-day Toots Shor’s.” In addition to Steinbrenner, its regulars included Howard Cosell, Muhammad Ali, Leo Durocher and Tony Bennett. And, of course, Sinatra. Although Steinbrenner and Sinatra came to know each other, and Steinbrenner had a signed photograph of Sinatra on his office wall, they were not close. On the coasts, Sinatra had his entourage, and was not looking to expand it.
(A quick aside: Sinatra loved sports, especially boxing and baseball. One night, Naples said, the Yankees, unable to get to an away game because of the weather, went into Patsy’s, the Midtown Italian restaurant, for dinner. Sinatra, who was also there, picked up the tab for the entire team.)
Steinbrenner also frequented a New York disco called Le Club; Marty Appel, the former head of public relations for the Yankees with a deep knowledge of Yankees history, said that was where he discovered “New York, New York.”
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“Theme From New York, New York,” by the great songwriting team of John Kander and Fred Ebb (http://www.allmusic.com/artist/kander-ebb-mn0001874084/biography) (“Cabaret,” “Chicago”), was written for the 1977 film “New York, New York.” Directed by Martin Scorsese, it starred Robert De Niro and Liza Minnelli as young, striving musicians. Although Minnelli recorded “New York, New York” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgusCINe260) before Sinatra, the movie was a flop and her recording went nowhere.
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(Aside No. 2: When Kander and Ebb first played the movie’s songs for De Niro, Minnelli and Scorsese, De Niro expressed dissatisfaction with the lead number, saying it wasn’t good enough to serve as a repeated motif throughout the film. To placate his star, Scorsese gently asked the songwriters to try again. Though mildly annoyed, the two men raced back to Ebb’s house and dashed off “New York, New York” in 45 minutes. “I recently had an opportunity to hear the original song we wrote for the film,” Kander told me. “It is terrible. De Niro was completely right.”)
A Tradition Is Born
The way Appel tells the story, a disc jockey at Le Club whom Steinbrenner had befriended started sending him tapes of music that Steinbrenner could play at Yankees games; the idea of using music to keep fans occupied between innings was just taking hold. One of the songs he sent was “New York, New York.” “Mr. Steinbrenner loved the words, ‘king of the hill, top of the heap,’ ” Appel said recently. And why wouldn’t he? The once-obscure Cleveland shipbuilder had transformed himself into the most famous owner in baseball.
At some point in 1980, Appel said, “Mr. Steinbrenner said, ‘You know what — we got to do it,’ ” meaning play the song after every game. But which version should the team use? By then, Naples was working for the Yankees; Steinbrenner told Naples and another young employee to play both versions over the loudspeakers, then make a decision. They agreed that Sinatra’s take better suited the Yankees than Minnelli’s version, which had more of a Broadway feel. Steinbrenner agreed. And so the tradition began.
When the Yankees started playing “New York, New York” during the 1980 season, it resonated with New Yorkers even more than when Sinatra sang it at Radio City Music Hall two years earlier. New York was seeing its first glimmers of hope. In April, the city’s transit workers went on strike. New York’s feisty mayor, Ed Koch, would go to the Brooklyn Bridge and urge on the thousands of people who were walking into Manhattan to get to work. “He would say, ‘Go to work everybody,’ ” said Neil Barsky, the chairman of The Marshall Project, who directed the documentary “Koch.” “ ‘We’re not going to let those bums bring us to our knees.’ He rallied the city.”
Then there were the Yankees themselves, one of the few bright spots during those dark days. Steinbrenner was brash and volatile, outspoken and irascible; if Sinatra was the Chairman of the Board, Steinbrenner was the Boss. He had more than his share of detractors. But he was also willing to spend money like no owner before him, using free agency to build a great team. In 1977 and 1978, the Yankees, led by Reggie Jackson, Ron Guidry and Thurman Munson, won the World Series. They had another good year in 1980, going 103-59, only to lose to the Kansas City Royals in the American League Championship Series. “The Yankees provided great theater for New Yorkers in those days,” Barsky said. When the fans walked out of Yankee Stadium after another win, those lyrics ringing in their ears, they could finally feel optimistic about their city. All of New York was starting to feel it.
Another Voice Banished
At some point — nobody knows when — the Yankees’ music programmer started another tradition. The team would play the Sinatra recording when the team won, but the Minnelli version after a loss. Jonathan Schwartz realized this, and so did Paul McKibbins, Kander and Ebb’s musical administrator. (Ebb died in 2004.) One day, during a casual lunch, he happened to mention what he had noticed to a Yankees team lawyer. “The man turned white,” McKibbins said. Very quickly, the Minnelli version was banished, and the team played only Sinatra’s “New York, New York,” win or lose.
(Aside No. 3: McKibbins declined to tell me how much the songwriters make in royalties from the Yankees. He did say, however, that the tune “makes significant money for the guys.” The main competition for “New York, New York,” he added, is the Billy Joel song “New York State of Mind,” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ol0dPJdzm1M_) which the Mets used to play after every home game but stopped in 2008.)
In 1996, after the Yankees beat the Atlanta Braves to win the World Series for the first time in 18 years — it was Derek Jeter’s rookie season — the fans celebrated (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dku7dLFhBw) by singing “New York, New York” over and over again. Although Liza Minnelli sang the song at Shea Stadium after 9/11, and the New York City Marathon (http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/subjects/n/new_york_city_marathon/index.html?inline=nyt-classifier) began playing it before the start of the race in Staten Island — also after 9/11 — the song’s association with the Yankees has never diminished. Appel recalled that on Sept. 21, 2008, after the last game at the old Stadium, “they must have played it 30 times; people didn’t want to leave.”
The tradition is unlikely to change anytime soon. “The song is an anthem to the city, and the hardworking people who live in it,” said Randy Levine, the president of the Yankees.
But let’s let Steinbrenner have the last word. In 2005, five years before his death (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/14/sports/baseball/14steinbrenner.html) , he was interviewed by Michael Kay for the YES Network. At one point, Kay asked him to name his favorite song.
“Anything Sinatra does,” Steinbrenner said. King of the hill. Top of the heap.
Correction: December 11, 2015
An earlier version of this article misstated a famous headline from The Daily News. It was “Ford to City: Drop Dead,” not “Ford to New York: Drop Dead.”
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Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life | New York Post
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** Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life
————————————————————
By Michael Riedel (http://nypost.com/author/michael-riedel/)
March 7, 2015 | 2:23am
Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life
You’d get the call around 3:00 in the afternoon — because Frank Sinatra didn’t get up until 1:30. If you were in the inner circle, it might be his voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing tonight? Let’s have dinner.”
If you were on less intimate terms, it would be his secretary: “Mr. Sinatra would like to know if you’re available for dinner this evening.”
There was, of course, only one reply: “I’d be delighted.” Nobody ever turned down the Chairman of the Board.
Sinatra would have turned 100 this year, and there are plenty of events to mark the occasion. An exhibit at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts (http://www.nypl.org/) celebrates his life with professional and personal mementos.
Next month, HBO will air “Sinatra: All or Nothing at All,” a 4-hour documentary that features never-before-seen footage of Sinatra’s performances and scenes from his private life.
One thing about that private life: Frank Sinatra never dined alone.
“He grew up as an only child, and he vowed that, as an adult, he would always have people around him,” says Mark Simone, host of WOR’s “The Mark Simone Show.”
Simone was part of the Sinatra posse in the 1980s. “If he invited you to dinner, you’d be honored. But dinner was 27 people. You’d be lucky if you were 14 seats away from him.”
Sinatra frequented only a handful of New York bars and restaurants. “He went to places where the staff would protect him,” says Pete Hamill, a Sinatra friend and author of “Why Sinatra Matters (http://www.petehamill.com/books/sinatraoverture.html) .”
“There’d be three waiters hovering. They sealed him off from the other customers, usually the guys who were stewed and wanted him to sign their ties or something.” Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post; Christian Johnston; AP; Getty Images One thing his haunts had in common: They weren’t fancy. Sinatra hated anything over which truffle oil had been dribbled.
His last wife, Barbara, liked to go to Le Cirque. On the rare occasions she coaxed him to join her, he’d eat his dinner in the car.
And forget about celebrity hangouts. The story goes that he once walked into Elaine’s, surveyed the famous faces at the choice tables, and walked out.
Instead, you’d find him at ‘21,’ Patsy’s, P.J. Clarke’s, Rocky Lee Chu-Cho Bianco and, his favorite place of all, Jilly’s. Patsy’s current owner Sal Scognamillo (right) and his father, Joe, show off a Sinatra sculpture on the bar.Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post Owned by Jilly Rizzo, Sinatra’s closest friend, the original Jilly’s was on West 48th Street.
In the ’60s, it moved to 256 W. 52nd St., and that’s where Sinatra drank at least three or four nights a week when he was in town.
“Jilly ran it like a boot camp for diners,” says George Schlatter, the TV producer (“Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In”) and Sinatra confidant. “He gave the orders. And when Frank walked in, Jilly stood up and told everybody where to sit. ‘You — move over there!’ ‘Get up!’ ‘Get outta da way!’ ‘He’s comin’ through.’ ”
Jilly’s specialized in Cantonese food. Regulars thought Howie, the chef, made the best barbecued pork in the city. Howie worked in the basement. He communicated to the main room through a speaking tube. When Sinatra would arrive, he’d grab the tube and shout: “F - - k you, Howie!” Howie would return the greeting: “F - - k you, Frank!” Jilly’s closed in the 1980s. The building is still there, now the Russian Samovar. Longtime Sinatra pal Jilly Rizzo (inset) ran Jilly’s, now the site of Russian Samovar in Midtown.Photo: Brian Zak/NY Post; Ron Galella, Ltd./WireImage ‘21’ (21 W. 52nd St.) is pretty much the same as it was when Sinatra dined there at a big table in the main room. When the guest list swelled to 30 or more, he’d take a private room upstairs.
One night, Jerry Lewis was seated at the other end of the table from Sinatra. Lewis ducked out during dinner, then came back. A few minutes later, a waiter handed Sinatra a telegram: “Frank — pass the salt. Jerry.”
Anyone who made Sinatra laugh was invited to dine with him. “That was the key to being with Frank,” Schlatter says. “You had to make him laugh. It wasn’t easy, but it was fun.” Frank Sinatra hung out at table #20 at P.J. Clarke’s (http://www.pjclarkes.com/famous-faces/) .Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post Don Rickles was perhaps his favorite court jester. Sinatra loved to recall the time he ran into Rickles at ‘21.’ Rickles was on a date. He went over to Sinatra and said, “Frank, would you do me a favor? Would you come by my table and say hello? It would really impress the girl.”
On his way out, Sinatra stopped by. “Hi, Don,” he said. Rickles scowled. “Frank, not now. Can’t you see we’re eating?”
One of Sinatra’s favorite meals was pounded veal, breaded, with a plate of spaghetti and red sauce on the side. He frequently ordered it at Patsy’s (236 W. 56th St.). It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it for you if you ask.
Sinatra’s loyalty to Patsy’s founder, Pasquale Scognamillo, stretched back to a Thanksgiving in the early 1950s. Sinatra’s career was on the skids and he was splitting from Ava Gardner. He had no place to go on Thanksgiving, so he made a reservation at Patsy’s.
The restaurant was closed, but Scognamillo didn’t say anything. He rounded up his staff and their families and told them to show up at 3 p.m., so the place would be full when Sinatra arrived.
P.J. Clarke’s (915 Third Ave.) was the hangout of Sinatra’s arch enemy, gossip columnist Dorothy Kilgallen. She taunted him about his breakup with Gardner, often dangling items about others the actress was seeing. Sinatra responded by calling her the “chinless wonder,” and avoiding P.J. Clarke’s while she held court.
No matter how large the party, dinner was always on Sinatra. When he was in town, he’d have many meals at Rocky Lee Chu-Cho, then at 987 Second Ave. He usually ordered the pizza. When he left town, a couple of guys would show up at the restaurant with bags of cash to pay his bill.
After dinner, Sinatra liked to be driven around the city, pointing out to his friends significant places in his life. Frank Sinatra played his first solo show at the Paramount Theatre (above), on Broadway, now the site of a Hard Rock Cafe. He liked to tour the city with pals and point out the venue. Inset: Sinatra in his Paramount dressing room.Photo: Corbis
At the top of the list was the Paramount Theatre (1501 Broadway), where he played his first solo concert in 1942. It’s a Hard Rock Cafe now, but the facade is the same.
After the tour, there was always time for another drink, even in the wee small hours of the morning. If he couldn’t find a bar that was open, Sinatra would head back to the Waldorf Astoria (301 Park Ave.), where he lived in a suite that once belonged to Cole Porter.
The staff had standing orders to open the bar in the ballroom at any time of the day or night for Sinatra and his friends.
“The only words he never wanted to hear,” says Schlatter, “were ‘take two’ and ‘last call.’ ” New York Gov. Hugh Carey (inset) with Sinatra at a 1976 Salute to New York dinner at the Waldorf Astoria (above) — where the staff had orders to keep the bar open any time of day or night for the singer when he stayed there.Photo: Brian Zak/NY Post; Shibla
** Where to see Sinatra’s bow tie, fedora and Oscar in person
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Ol’ Blue Eyes would have been 100 years old this December, but even though Hoboken’s finest is no longer with us, Frank’s fans will be treated to a number of centenary celebrations, starting with “Sinatra: An American Icon,” (http://www.nypl.org/events/exhibitions/sinatra-american-icon?hspace=291892) a new exhibit featuring rare family photos, art, clothing and much more from the Sinatra estate.
Yes, 2015 is shaping up to be a very good year indeed for Sinatra enthusiasts.
“Ninety percent of these objects have never been seen before,” exhibit curator and music historian Bob Santelli tells The Post. “A lot of it was pulled right off the wall from the family’s archive in California. Fans know Sinatra as a recording artist and performer, but the idea of this show is to shed light on the man behind the music.”
The exhibit started this week at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts and runs until September.
Here are just some of the artifacts that the Chairman of the Board held dear to his heart.
** Classic black fedora
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post The vast majority of Sinatra pictures feature him wearing a hat and, as Santelli explains, there were two simple reasons.
“One was because he was going bald prematurely, and the other was because his idol Bing Crosby wore one. As a teenager, Sinatra also smoked a pipe because Crosby smoked one, too!”
** Bow tie
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Looking the part was just as important as sounding the part to Sinatra, and he was partial to a good bow tie. But not just the garden-variety one you might get at a department store.
“Frank’s mother, Nancy, would make them for him,” explains Santelli. “They were all hand-sewn, and there are only three of these that are known to exist. The Smithsonian has two, and we have this one.”
** 1946 Academy Award for “The House I Live In”
————————————————————
See the artist’s 1945 Oscar at the new exhibit.Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post; Pix Inc./Pix Inc./The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images The 1945 movie “The House I Live In” was barely 10 minutes long, but it won Sinatra his first Oscar. In it, he explains the virtues of tolerance to local kids terrorizing a Jewish boy.
“He would win awards for acting later in his life, but the Academy gave him this special award for helping to promote American values,” says Santelli.
** “The Manchurian Candidate,” original movie poster
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Sinatra famously had friends in high places. His connections to the mob were well established, but he also had the White House on call.
“Frank was very good friends with John F. Kennedy,” explains Santelli. “He produced and arranged JFK’s inaugural ball (in 1961) and they would often have lunch together. He was horrified by Kennedy’s assassination, particularly because the film ‘The Manchurian Candidate’ (1962), which he starred in, was about a Presidential assassination carried out by someone brainwashed by Communists. It was a little too close to home for Frank, and he tried to have it removed from circulation.”
** Sinatra’s paintings
————————————————————
Sinatra gave his lawyer this 1989 untitled work, now on display.Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post It’s a little-known facet of his life, but Sinatra was just as passionate about his paintings as he was about his music. He never sold a single work, choosing instead to give them away to friends and family.
“He loved abstract impressionism,” says Santelli. “He had a studio set up in Rancho Mirage, just outside Palm Springs, and he would often dedicate and inscribe works to his grandchildren. Painting had a very calming effect on Frank.”
** T-shirts worn by his grandchildren
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post In 1971, Sinatra attempted to hang up his mike and announced his retirement from the stage, but just two years later, the spotlight came calling again, and this time, his biggest fans were his grandkids.
This T-shirt was worn by Amanda Erlinger when she was just a child. Don’t hate; if your Gramps were Frank Sinatra, you’d want everyone to know it, too.
** Sinatra’s New York Yankees jacket
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Frank’s relationship with the Yankees is never likely to end.
He was buddies with Joe DiMaggio, and “New York, New York” still gets blared out at Yankee Stadium to this day, but Sinatra’s love of sports was not just limited to New York area teams. Just about everyone would try to adopt him.
“Everyone would give him jackets and hats wherever he went,” laughs Santelli. “In his collection, there was even a Florida Gators jacket and a Notre Dame cap, too. He didn’t even go to Notre Dame — he didn’t even finish high school!”
— Hardeep Phull
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
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Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life | New York Post
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://nypost.com/2015/03/07/why-frank-sinatra-loved-to-eat-in-his-car-and-more-on-his-secret-nyc-life/
** Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life
————————————————————
By Michael Riedel (http://nypost.com/author/michael-riedel/)
March 7, 2015 | 2:23am
Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life
You’d get the call around 3:00 in the afternoon — because Frank Sinatra didn’t get up until 1:30. If you were in the inner circle, it might be his voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing tonight? Let’s have dinner.”
If you were on less intimate terms, it would be his secretary: “Mr. Sinatra would like to know if you’re available for dinner this evening.”
There was, of course, only one reply: “I’d be delighted.” Nobody ever turned down the Chairman of the Board.
Sinatra would have turned 100 this year, and there are plenty of events to mark the occasion. An exhibit at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts (http://www.nypl.org/) celebrates his life with professional and personal mementos.
Next month, HBO will air “Sinatra: All or Nothing at All,” a 4-hour documentary that features never-before-seen footage of Sinatra’s performances and scenes from his private life.
One thing about that private life: Frank Sinatra never dined alone.
“He grew up as an only child, and he vowed that, as an adult, he would always have people around him,” says Mark Simone, host of WOR’s “The Mark Simone Show.”
Simone was part of the Sinatra posse in the 1980s. “If he invited you to dinner, you’d be honored. But dinner was 27 people. You’d be lucky if you were 14 seats away from him.”
Sinatra frequented only a handful of New York bars and restaurants. “He went to places where the staff would protect him,” says Pete Hamill, a Sinatra friend and author of “Why Sinatra Matters (http://www.petehamill.com/books/sinatraoverture.html) .”
“There’d be three waiters hovering. They sealed him off from the other customers, usually the guys who were stewed and wanted him to sign their ties or something.” Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post; Christian Johnston; AP; Getty Images One thing his haunts had in common: They weren’t fancy. Sinatra hated anything over which truffle oil had been dribbled.
His last wife, Barbara, liked to go to Le Cirque. On the rare occasions she coaxed him to join her, he’d eat his dinner in the car.
And forget about celebrity hangouts. The story goes that he once walked into Elaine’s, surveyed the famous faces at the choice tables, and walked out.
Instead, you’d find him at ‘21,’ Patsy’s, P.J. Clarke’s, Rocky Lee Chu-Cho Bianco and, his favorite place of all, Jilly’s. Patsy’s current owner Sal Scognamillo (right) and his father, Joe, show off a Sinatra sculpture on the bar.Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post Owned by Jilly Rizzo, Sinatra’s closest friend, the original Jilly’s was on West 48th Street.
In the ’60s, it moved to 256 W. 52nd St., and that’s where Sinatra drank at least three or four nights a week when he was in town.
“Jilly ran it like a boot camp for diners,” says George Schlatter, the TV producer (“Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In”) and Sinatra confidant. “He gave the orders. And when Frank walked in, Jilly stood up and told everybody where to sit. ‘You — move over there!’ ‘Get up!’ ‘Get outta da way!’ ‘He’s comin’ through.’ ”
Jilly’s specialized in Cantonese food. Regulars thought Howie, the chef, made the best barbecued pork in the city. Howie worked in the basement. He communicated to the main room through a speaking tube. When Sinatra would arrive, he’d grab the tube and shout: “F - - k you, Howie!” Howie would return the greeting: “F - - k you, Frank!” Jilly’s closed in the 1980s. The building is still there, now the Russian Samovar. Longtime Sinatra pal Jilly Rizzo (inset) ran Jilly’s, now the site of Russian Samovar in Midtown.Photo: Brian Zak/NY Post; Ron Galella, Ltd./WireImage ‘21’ (21 W. 52nd St.) is pretty much the same as it was when Sinatra dined there at a big table in the main room. When the guest list swelled to 30 or more, he’d take a private room upstairs.
One night, Jerry Lewis was seated at the other end of the table from Sinatra. Lewis ducked out during dinner, then came back. A few minutes later, a waiter handed Sinatra a telegram: “Frank — pass the salt. Jerry.”
Anyone who made Sinatra laugh was invited to dine with him. “That was the key to being with Frank,” Schlatter says. “You had to make him laugh. It wasn’t easy, but it was fun.” Frank Sinatra hung out at table #20 at P.J. Clarke’s (http://www.pjclarkes.com/famous-faces/) .Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post Don Rickles was perhaps his favorite court jester. Sinatra loved to recall the time he ran into Rickles at ‘21.’ Rickles was on a date. He went over to Sinatra and said, “Frank, would you do me a favor? Would you come by my table and say hello? It would really impress the girl.”
On his way out, Sinatra stopped by. “Hi, Don,” he said. Rickles scowled. “Frank, not now. Can’t you see we’re eating?”
One of Sinatra’s favorite meals was pounded veal, breaded, with a plate of spaghetti and red sauce on the side. He frequently ordered it at Patsy’s (236 W. 56th St.). It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it for you if you ask.
Sinatra’s loyalty to Patsy’s founder, Pasquale Scognamillo, stretched back to a Thanksgiving in the early 1950s. Sinatra’s career was on the skids and he was splitting from Ava Gardner. He had no place to go on Thanksgiving, so he made a reservation at Patsy’s.
The restaurant was closed, but Scognamillo didn’t say anything. He rounded up his staff and their families and told them to show up at 3 p.m., so the place would be full when Sinatra arrived.
P.J. Clarke’s (915 Third Ave.) was the hangout of Sinatra’s arch enemy, gossip columnist Dorothy Kilgallen. She taunted him about his breakup with Gardner, often dangling items about others the actress was seeing. Sinatra responded by calling her the “chinless wonder,” and avoiding P.J. Clarke’s while she held court.
No matter how large the party, dinner was always on Sinatra. When he was in town, he’d have many meals at Rocky Lee Chu-Cho, then at 987 Second Ave. He usually ordered the pizza. When he left town, a couple of guys would show up at the restaurant with bags of cash to pay his bill.
After dinner, Sinatra liked to be driven around the city, pointing out to his friends significant places in his life. Frank Sinatra played his first solo show at the Paramount Theatre (above), on Broadway, now the site of a Hard Rock Cafe. He liked to tour the city with pals and point out the venue. Inset: Sinatra in his Paramount dressing room.Photo: Corbis
At the top of the list was the Paramount Theatre (1501 Broadway), where he played his first solo concert in 1942. It’s a Hard Rock Cafe now, but the facade is the same.
After the tour, there was always time for another drink, even in the wee small hours of the morning. If he couldn’t find a bar that was open, Sinatra would head back to the Waldorf Astoria (301 Park Ave.), where he lived in a suite that once belonged to Cole Porter.
The staff had standing orders to open the bar in the ballroom at any time of the day or night for Sinatra and his friends.
“The only words he never wanted to hear,” says Schlatter, “were ‘take two’ and ‘last call.’ ” New York Gov. Hugh Carey (inset) with Sinatra at a 1976 Salute to New York dinner at the Waldorf Astoria (above) — where the staff had orders to keep the bar open any time of day or night for the singer when he stayed there.Photo: Brian Zak/NY Post; Shibla
** Where to see Sinatra’s bow tie, fedora and Oscar in person
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Ol’ Blue Eyes would have been 100 years old this December, but even though Hoboken’s finest is no longer with us, Frank’s fans will be treated to a number of centenary celebrations, starting with “Sinatra: An American Icon,” (http://www.nypl.org/events/exhibitions/sinatra-american-icon?hspace=291892) a new exhibit featuring rare family photos, art, clothing and much more from the Sinatra estate.
Yes, 2015 is shaping up to be a very good year indeed for Sinatra enthusiasts.
“Ninety percent of these objects have never been seen before,” exhibit curator and music historian Bob Santelli tells The Post. “A lot of it was pulled right off the wall from the family’s archive in California. Fans know Sinatra as a recording artist and performer, but the idea of this show is to shed light on the man behind the music.”
The exhibit started this week at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts and runs until September.
Here are just some of the artifacts that the Chairman of the Board held dear to his heart.
** Classic black fedora
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post The vast majority of Sinatra pictures feature him wearing a hat and, as Santelli explains, there were two simple reasons.
“One was because he was going bald prematurely, and the other was because his idol Bing Crosby wore one. As a teenager, Sinatra also smoked a pipe because Crosby smoked one, too!”
** Bow tie
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Looking the part was just as important as sounding the part to Sinatra, and he was partial to a good bow tie. But not just the garden-variety one you might get at a department store.
“Frank’s mother, Nancy, would make them for him,” explains Santelli. “They were all hand-sewn, and there are only three of these that are known to exist. The Smithsonian has two, and we have this one.”
** 1946 Academy Award for “The House I Live In”
————————————————————
See the artist’s 1945 Oscar at the new exhibit.Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post; Pix Inc./Pix Inc./The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images The 1945 movie “The House I Live In” was barely 10 minutes long, but it won Sinatra his first Oscar. In it, he explains the virtues of tolerance to local kids terrorizing a Jewish boy.
“He would win awards for acting later in his life, but the Academy gave him this special award for helping to promote American values,” says Santelli.
** “The Manchurian Candidate,” original movie poster
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Sinatra famously had friends in high places. His connections to the mob were well established, but he also had the White House on call.
“Frank was very good friends with John F. Kennedy,” explains Santelli. “He produced and arranged JFK’s inaugural ball (in 1961) and they would often have lunch together. He was horrified by Kennedy’s assassination, particularly because the film ‘The Manchurian Candidate’ (1962), which he starred in, was about a Presidential assassination carried out by someone brainwashed by Communists. It was a little too close to home for Frank, and he tried to have it removed from circulation.”
** Sinatra’s paintings
————————————————————
Sinatra gave his lawyer this 1989 untitled work, now on display.Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post It’s a little-known facet of his life, but Sinatra was just as passionate about his paintings as he was about his music. He never sold a single work, choosing instead to give them away to friends and family.
“He loved abstract impressionism,” says Santelli. “He had a studio set up in Rancho Mirage, just outside Palm Springs, and he would often dedicate and inscribe works to his grandchildren. Painting had a very calming effect on Frank.”
** T-shirts worn by his grandchildren
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post In 1971, Sinatra attempted to hang up his mike and announced his retirement from the stage, but just two years later, the spotlight came calling again, and this time, his biggest fans were his grandkids.
This T-shirt was worn by Amanda Erlinger when she was just a child. Don’t hate; if your Gramps were Frank Sinatra, you’d want everyone to know it, too.
** Sinatra’s New York Yankees jacket
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Frank’s relationship with the Yankees is never likely to end.
He was buddies with Joe DiMaggio, and “New York, New York” still gets blared out at Yankee Stadium to this day, but Sinatra’s love of sports was not just limited to New York area teams. Just about everyone would try to adopt him.
“Everyone would give him jackets and hats wherever he went,” laughs Santelli. “In his collection, there was even a Florida Gators jacket and a Notre Dame cap, too. He didn’t even go to Notre Dame — he didn’t even finish high school!”
— Hardeep Phull
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
CHECK OUT OUR NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDvUe6fkNLU)
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PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE ON THIS MAILING LIST PLEASE RESPOND WITH ‘REMOVE’ IN THE SUBJECT LINE. IF YOU ARE RECEIVING DUPLICATE EMAILS OUR APOLOGIES, JAZZ PROMO SERVICES ANNOUNCEMENT LIST IS GROWING LARGER EVERY DAY…..PLEASE LET US KNOW AND WE WILL FIX IT IMMEDIATELY!
Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life | New York Post
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://nypost.com/2015/03/07/why-frank-sinatra-loved-to-eat-in-his-car-and-more-on-his-secret-nyc-life/
** Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life
————————————————————
By Michael Riedel (http://nypost.com/author/michael-riedel/)
March 7, 2015 | 2:23am
Why Sinatra loved to eat in his car, and more on his secret NYC life
You’d get the call around 3:00 in the afternoon — because Frank Sinatra didn’t get up until 1:30. If you were in the inner circle, it might be his voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing tonight? Let’s have dinner.”
If you were on less intimate terms, it would be his secretary: “Mr. Sinatra would like to know if you’re available for dinner this evening.”
There was, of course, only one reply: “I’d be delighted.” Nobody ever turned down the Chairman of the Board.
Sinatra would have turned 100 this year, and there are plenty of events to mark the occasion. An exhibit at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts (http://www.nypl.org/) celebrates his life with professional and personal mementos.
Next month, HBO will air “Sinatra: All or Nothing at All,” a 4-hour documentary that features never-before-seen footage of Sinatra’s performances and scenes from his private life.
One thing about that private life: Frank Sinatra never dined alone.
“He grew up as an only child, and he vowed that, as an adult, he would always have people around him,” says Mark Simone, host of WOR’s “The Mark Simone Show.”
Simone was part of the Sinatra posse in the 1980s. “If he invited you to dinner, you’d be honored. But dinner was 27 people. You’d be lucky if you were 14 seats away from him.”
Sinatra frequented only a handful of New York bars and restaurants. “He went to places where the staff would protect him,” says Pete Hamill, a Sinatra friend and author of “Why Sinatra Matters (http://www.petehamill.com/books/sinatraoverture.html) .”
“There’d be three waiters hovering. They sealed him off from the other customers, usually the guys who were stewed and wanted him to sign their ties or something.” Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post; Christian Johnston; AP; Getty Images One thing his haunts had in common: They weren’t fancy. Sinatra hated anything over which truffle oil had been dribbled.
His last wife, Barbara, liked to go to Le Cirque. On the rare occasions she coaxed him to join her, he’d eat his dinner in the car.
And forget about celebrity hangouts. The story goes that he once walked into Elaine’s, surveyed the famous faces at the choice tables, and walked out.
Instead, you’d find him at ‘21,’ Patsy’s, P.J. Clarke’s, Rocky Lee Chu-Cho Bianco and, his favorite place of all, Jilly’s. Patsy’s current owner Sal Scognamillo (right) and his father, Joe, show off a Sinatra sculpture on the bar.Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post Owned by Jilly Rizzo, Sinatra’s closest friend, the original Jilly’s was on West 48th Street.
In the ’60s, it moved to 256 W. 52nd St., and that’s where Sinatra drank at least three or four nights a week when he was in town.
“Jilly ran it like a boot camp for diners,” says George Schlatter, the TV producer (“Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In”) and Sinatra confidant. “He gave the orders. And when Frank walked in, Jilly stood up and told everybody where to sit. ‘You — move over there!’ ‘Get up!’ ‘Get outta da way!’ ‘He’s comin’ through.’ ”
Jilly’s specialized in Cantonese food. Regulars thought Howie, the chef, made the best barbecued pork in the city. Howie worked in the basement. He communicated to the main room through a speaking tube. When Sinatra would arrive, he’d grab the tube and shout: “F - - k you, Howie!” Howie would return the greeting: “F - - k you, Frank!” Jilly’s closed in the 1980s. The building is still there, now the Russian Samovar. Longtime Sinatra pal Jilly Rizzo (inset) ran Jilly’s, now the site of Russian Samovar in Midtown.Photo: Brian Zak/NY Post; Ron Galella, Ltd./WireImage ‘21’ (21 W. 52nd St.) is pretty much the same as it was when Sinatra dined there at a big table in the main room. When the guest list swelled to 30 or more, he’d take a private room upstairs.
One night, Jerry Lewis was seated at the other end of the table from Sinatra. Lewis ducked out during dinner, then came back. A few minutes later, a waiter handed Sinatra a telegram: “Frank — pass the salt. Jerry.”
Anyone who made Sinatra laugh was invited to dine with him. “That was the key to being with Frank,” Schlatter says. “You had to make him laugh. It wasn’t easy, but it was fun.” Frank Sinatra hung out at table #20 at P.J. Clarke’s (http://www.pjclarkes.com/famous-faces/) .Photo: Tamara Beckwith/NY Post Don Rickles was perhaps his favorite court jester. Sinatra loved to recall the time he ran into Rickles at ‘21.’ Rickles was on a date. He went over to Sinatra and said, “Frank, would you do me a favor? Would you come by my table and say hello? It would really impress the girl.”
On his way out, Sinatra stopped by. “Hi, Don,” he said. Rickles scowled. “Frank, not now. Can’t you see we’re eating?”
One of Sinatra’s favorite meals was pounded veal, breaded, with a plate of spaghetti and red sauce on the side. He frequently ordered it at Patsy’s (236 W. 56th St.). It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it for you if you ask.
Sinatra’s loyalty to Patsy’s founder, Pasquale Scognamillo, stretched back to a Thanksgiving in the early 1950s. Sinatra’s career was on the skids and he was splitting from Ava Gardner. He had no place to go on Thanksgiving, so he made a reservation at Patsy’s.
The restaurant was closed, but Scognamillo didn’t say anything. He rounded up his staff and their families and told them to show up at 3 p.m., so the place would be full when Sinatra arrived.
P.J. Clarke’s (915 Third Ave.) was the hangout of Sinatra’s arch enemy, gossip columnist Dorothy Kilgallen. She taunted him about his breakup with Gardner, often dangling items about others the actress was seeing. Sinatra responded by calling her the “chinless wonder,” and avoiding P.J. Clarke’s while she held court.
No matter how large the party, dinner was always on Sinatra. When he was in town, he’d have many meals at Rocky Lee Chu-Cho, then at 987 Second Ave. He usually ordered the pizza. When he left town, a couple of guys would show up at the restaurant with bags of cash to pay his bill.
After dinner, Sinatra liked to be driven around the city, pointing out to his friends significant places in his life. Frank Sinatra played his first solo show at the Paramount Theatre (above), on Broadway, now the site of a Hard Rock Cafe. He liked to tour the city with pals and point out the venue. Inset: Sinatra in his Paramount dressing room.Photo: Corbis
At the top of the list was the Paramount Theatre (1501 Broadway), where he played his first solo concert in 1942. It’s a Hard Rock Cafe now, but the facade is the same.
After the tour, there was always time for another drink, even in the wee small hours of the morning. If he couldn’t find a bar that was open, Sinatra would head back to the Waldorf Astoria (301 Park Ave.), where he lived in a suite that once belonged to Cole Porter.
The staff had standing orders to open the bar in the ballroom at any time of the day or night for Sinatra and his friends.
“The only words he never wanted to hear,” says Schlatter, “were ‘take two’ and ‘last call.’ ” New York Gov. Hugh Carey (inset) with Sinatra at a 1976 Salute to New York dinner at the Waldorf Astoria (above) — where the staff had orders to keep the bar open any time of day or night for the singer when he stayed there.Photo: Brian Zak/NY Post; Shibla
** Where to see Sinatra’s bow tie, fedora and Oscar in person
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Ol’ Blue Eyes would have been 100 years old this December, but even though Hoboken’s finest is no longer with us, Frank’s fans will be treated to a number of centenary celebrations, starting with “Sinatra: An American Icon,” (http://www.nypl.org/events/exhibitions/sinatra-american-icon?hspace=291892) a new exhibit featuring rare family photos, art, clothing and much more from the Sinatra estate.
Yes, 2015 is shaping up to be a very good year indeed for Sinatra enthusiasts.
“Ninety percent of these objects have never been seen before,” exhibit curator and music historian Bob Santelli tells The Post. “A lot of it was pulled right off the wall from the family’s archive in California. Fans know Sinatra as a recording artist and performer, but the idea of this show is to shed light on the man behind the music.”
The exhibit started this week at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts and runs until September.
Here are just some of the artifacts that the Chairman of the Board held dear to his heart.
** Classic black fedora
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post The vast majority of Sinatra pictures feature him wearing a hat and, as Santelli explains, there were two simple reasons.
“One was because he was going bald prematurely, and the other was because his idol Bing Crosby wore one. As a teenager, Sinatra also smoked a pipe because Crosby smoked one, too!”
** Bow tie
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Looking the part was just as important as sounding the part to Sinatra, and he was partial to a good bow tie. But not just the garden-variety one you might get at a department store.
“Frank’s mother, Nancy, would make them for him,” explains Santelli. “They were all hand-sewn, and there are only three of these that are known to exist. The Smithsonian has two, and we have this one.”
** 1946 Academy Award for “The House I Live In”
————————————————————
See the artist’s 1945 Oscar at the new exhibit.Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post; Pix Inc./Pix Inc./The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images The 1945 movie “The House I Live In” was barely 10 minutes long, but it won Sinatra his first Oscar. In it, he explains the virtues of tolerance to local kids terrorizing a Jewish boy.
“He would win awards for acting later in his life, but the Academy gave him this special award for helping to promote American values,” says Santelli.
** “The Manchurian Candidate,” original movie poster
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Sinatra famously had friends in high places. His connections to the mob were well established, but he also had the White House on call.
“Frank was very good friends with John F. Kennedy,” explains Santelli. “He produced and arranged JFK’s inaugural ball (in 1961) and they would often have lunch together. He was horrified by Kennedy’s assassination, particularly because the film ‘The Manchurian Candidate’ (1962), which he starred in, was about a Presidential assassination carried out by someone brainwashed by Communists. It was a little too close to home for Frank, and he tried to have it removed from circulation.”
** Sinatra’s paintings
————————————————————
Sinatra gave his lawyer this 1989 untitled work, now on display.Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post It’s a little-known facet of his life, but Sinatra was just as passionate about his paintings as he was about his music. He never sold a single work, choosing instead to give them away to friends and family.
“He loved abstract impressionism,” says Santelli. “He had a studio set up in Rancho Mirage, just outside Palm Springs, and he would often dedicate and inscribe works to his grandchildren. Painting had a very calming effect on Frank.”
** T-shirts worn by his grandchildren
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post In 1971, Sinatra attempted to hang up his mike and announced his retirement from the stage, but just two years later, the spotlight came calling again, and this time, his biggest fans were his grandkids.
This T-shirt was worn by Amanda Erlinger when she was just a child. Don’t hate; if your Gramps were Frank Sinatra, you’d want everyone to know it, too.
** Sinatra’s New York Yankees jacket
————————————————————
Photo: Anne Wermiel/NY Post Frank’s relationship with the Yankees is never likely to end.
He was buddies with Joe DiMaggio, and “New York, New York” still gets blared out at Yankee Stadium to this day, but Sinatra’s love of sports was not just limited to New York area teams. Just about everyone would try to adopt him.
“Everyone would give him jackets and hats wherever he went,” laughs Santelli. “In his collection, there was even a Florida Gators jacket and a Notre Dame cap, too. He didn’t even go to Notre Dame — he didn’t even finish high school!”
— Hardeep Phull
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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Why Frank Sinatra still matters: Pete Hamill – NY Daily News
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/music/frank-sinatra-matters-legendary-newsman-pete-ham-article-1.2463323
** Frank Sinatra still matters, says legendary newsman Pete Hamill
————————————————————
BY JOE KEMP (http://www.nydailynews.com/authors?author=Joe-Kemp)
For legendary newsman Pete Hamill, it was more than the music that kept the world on a string for Frank Sinatra — the iconic singer always knew how to bring a song home.
“It was area code 212 music,” said Hamill, author of the book, “Why Sinatra Matters,” a short biography of the late famed baritone — born 100 years ago on Saturday — that also chronicles a time the pair spent together in the 1970s.
“Even the earliest songs, in the 1930s and during the war, you can see the streets,” Hamill told the Daily News.
“You can see it’s a right-angled world.”
NYC PAPERS OUT. Social media use restricted to low res file max 184 x 128 pixels and 72 dpi Susan Watts/New York Daily News (safari-reader://www.nydailynews.com/photos/dn-photographers/photographer?author=Susan-Watts)
** Award-winning author, Pete Hamill, talks about his time with Frank Sinatra and why the iconic singer still matters.
————————————————————
PETE HAMILL: FRANK SINATRA’S FANS STILL DRAWN BY HIS MAGIC (http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/hamill-frank-sinatra-fans-drawn-magic-article-1.2448294)
The 80-year-old writer, speaking through his own soft, aging blue eyes, said he first met Sinatra in Las Vegas after covering a boxing match for famed columnist Jimmy Cannon — who told him only to come to a restaurant after filing his story.
“And I went off to this table where I met Frank Sinatra, Leo Durocher — the former manager of both the Giants and the Dodgers — and some other guys who it’s probably best to forget their last names,” he recalled.
“And later on, when (Sinatra) was in New York for some event he was doing, he called me and asked me for dinner.”
PETE HAMILL: MUSIC CAN HELP WRITERS WRITE (VIDEO) (http://video.nydailynews.com/?vcid=30056483&freewheel=90051&sitesection=nydn)
The memories — as fresh as if he had just plucked them from one of the hundreds of books lined up on shelves throughout his TriBeca apartment — were the first of many he would later share with The Chairman.
“I think at the core of the friendship was the similarities of our lives, even though there was 20 years difference in our ages,” Hamill said.
Both high school dropouts born a stone’s throw from Manhattan, each grew famous for his voice — one through a microphone, the other, a typewriter.
FRANK SINATRA CRAFTED AN EXCITING CAREER, HIS WAY (http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/archives-raucous-life-set-sublime-music-di-article-1.2043070)
The award-winning Hamill, the first of seven children born to Irish immigrants, said Sinatra’s essence stemmed from being the only child of Italians living in New Jersey.
“He had a huge influence on the way Americans looked at Italian immigrants,” said Hamill, adding that the effect was compounded by the likes of Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia and Yankees great Joe DiMaggio.
“Because it was about coming out of a certain vision of the world that included possibility, and (Sinatra’s) sense of possibility found its direction in music.”
But it’s more than just Sinatra’s voice that has carried on more than 17 years after his death.
“He learned from Billie Holiday, born in the same year he was, that you could take a song written by someone else — a stranger — and turn it into autobiography,” Hamill said.
“That’s what she did. That’s what he did. And that’s what good singers have done since then.”
USING A MOBILE DEVICE? CLICK HERE FOR VIDEO (http://video.nydailynews.com/?vcid=30056495&freewheel=90051&sitesection=nydn)
Tags:
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
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Why Frank Sinatra still matters: Pete Hamill – NY Daily News
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/music/frank-sinatra-matters-legendary-newsman-pete-ham-article-1.2463323
** Frank Sinatra still matters, says legendary newsman Pete Hamill
————————————————————
BY JOE KEMP (http://www.nydailynews.com/authors?author=Joe-Kemp)
For legendary newsman Pete Hamill, it was more than the music that kept the world on a string for Frank Sinatra — the iconic singer always knew how to bring a song home.
“It was area code 212 music,” said Hamill, author of the book, “Why Sinatra Matters,” a short biography of the late famed baritone — born 100 years ago on Saturday — that also chronicles a time the pair spent together in the 1970s.
“Even the earliest songs, in the 1930s and during the war, you can see the streets,” Hamill told the Daily News.
“You can see it’s a right-angled world.”
NYC PAPERS OUT. Social media use restricted to low res file max 184 x 128 pixels and 72 dpi Susan Watts/New York Daily News (safari-reader://www.nydailynews.com/photos/dn-photographers/photographer?author=Susan-Watts)
** Award-winning author, Pete Hamill, talks about his time with Frank Sinatra and why the iconic singer still matters.
————————————————————
PETE HAMILL: FRANK SINATRA’S FANS STILL DRAWN BY HIS MAGIC (http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/hamill-frank-sinatra-fans-drawn-magic-article-1.2448294)
The 80-year-old writer, speaking through his own soft, aging blue eyes, said he first met Sinatra in Las Vegas after covering a boxing match for famed columnist Jimmy Cannon — who told him only to come to a restaurant after filing his story.
“And I went off to this table where I met Frank Sinatra, Leo Durocher — the former manager of both the Giants and the Dodgers — and some other guys who it’s probably best to forget their last names,” he recalled.
“And later on, when (Sinatra) was in New York for some event he was doing, he called me and asked me for dinner.”
PETE HAMILL: MUSIC CAN HELP WRITERS WRITE (VIDEO) (http://video.nydailynews.com/?vcid=30056483&freewheel=90051&sitesection=nydn)
The memories — as fresh as if he had just plucked them from one of the hundreds of books lined up on shelves throughout his TriBeca apartment — were the first of many he would later share with The Chairman.
“I think at the core of the friendship was the similarities of our lives, even though there was 20 years difference in our ages,” Hamill said.
Both high school dropouts born a stone’s throw from Manhattan, each grew famous for his voice — one through a microphone, the other, a typewriter.
FRANK SINATRA CRAFTED AN EXCITING CAREER, HIS WAY (http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/archives-raucous-life-set-sublime-music-di-article-1.2043070)
The award-winning Hamill, the first of seven children born to Irish immigrants, said Sinatra’s essence stemmed from being the only child of Italians living in New Jersey.
“He had a huge influence on the way Americans looked at Italian immigrants,” said Hamill, adding that the effect was compounded by the likes of Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia and Yankees great Joe DiMaggio.
“Because it was about coming out of a certain vision of the world that included possibility, and (Sinatra’s) sense of possibility found its direction in music.”
But it’s more than just Sinatra’s voice that has carried on more than 17 years after his death.
“He learned from Billie Holiday, born in the same year he was, that you could take a song written by someone else — a stranger — and turn it into autobiography,” Hamill said.
“That’s what she did. That’s what he did. And that’s what good singers have done since then.”
USING A MOBILE DEVICE? CLICK HERE FOR VIDEO (http://video.nydailynews.com/?vcid=30056495&freewheel=90051&sitesection=nydn)
Tags:
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
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Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Why Frank Sinatra still matters: Pete Hamill – NY Daily News
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/music/frank-sinatra-matters-legendary-newsman-pete-ham-article-1.2463323
** Frank Sinatra still matters, says legendary newsman Pete Hamill
————————————————————
BY JOE KEMP (http://www.nydailynews.com/authors?author=Joe-Kemp)
For legendary newsman Pete Hamill, it was more than the music that kept the world on a string for Frank Sinatra — the iconic singer always knew how to bring a song home.
“It was area code 212 music,” said Hamill, author of the book, “Why Sinatra Matters,” a short biography of the late famed baritone — born 100 years ago on Saturday — that also chronicles a time the pair spent together in the 1970s.
“Even the earliest songs, in the 1930s and during the war, you can see the streets,” Hamill told the Daily News.
“You can see it’s a right-angled world.”
NYC PAPERS OUT. Social media use restricted to low res file max 184 x 128 pixels and 72 dpi Susan Watts/New York Daily News (safari-reader://www.nydailynews.com/photos/dn-photographers/photographer?author=Susan-Watts)
** Award-winning author, Pete Hamill, talks about his time with Frank Sinatra and why the iconic singer still matters.
————————————————————
PETE HAMILL: FRANK SINATRA’S FANS STILL DRAWN BY HIS MAGIC (http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/hamill-frank-sinatra-fans-drawn-magic-article-1.2448294)
The 80-year-old writer, speaking through his own soft, aging blue eyes, said he first met Sinatra in Las Vegas after covering a boxing match for famed columnist Jimmy Cannon — who told him only to come to a restaurant after filing his story.
“And I went off to this table where I met Frank Sinatra, Leo Durocher — the former manager of both the Giants and the Dodgers — and some other guys who it’s probably best to forget their last names,” he recalled.
“And later on, when (Sinatra) was in New York for some event he was doing, he called me and asked me for dinner.”
PETE HAMILL: MUSIC CAN HELP WRITERS WRITE (VIDEO) (http://video.nydailynews.com/?vcid=30056483&freewheel=90051&sitesection=nydn)
The memories — as fresh as if he had just plucked them from one of the hundreds of books lined up on shelves throughout his TriBeca apartment — were the first of many he would later share with The Chairman.
“I think at the core of the friendship was the similarities of our lives, even though there was 20 years difference in our ages,” Hamill said.
Both high school dropouts born a stone’s throw from Manhattan, each grew famous for his voice — one through a microphone, the other, a typewriter.
FRANK SINATRA CRAFTED AN EXCITING CAREER, HIS WAY (http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/archives-raucous-life-set-sublime-music-di-article-1.2043070)
The award-winning Hamill, the first of seven children born to Irish immigrants, said Sinatra’s essence stemmed from being the only child of Italians living in New Jersey.
“He had a huge influence on the way Americans looked at Italian immigrants,” said Hamill, adding that the effect was compounded by the likes of Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia and Yankees great Joe DiMaggio.
“Because it was about coming out of a certain vision of the world that included possibility, and (Sinatra’s) sense of possibility found its direction in music.”
But it’s more than just Sinatra’s voice that has carried on more than 17 years after his death.
“He learned from Billie Holiday, born in the same year he was, that you could take a song written by someone else — a stranger — and turn it into autobiography,” Hamill said.
“That’s what she did. That’s what he did. And that’s what good singers have done since then.”
USING A MOBILE DEVICE? CLICK HERE FOR VIDEO (http://video.nydailynews.com/?vcid=30056495&freewheel=90051&sitesection=nydn)
Tags:
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Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
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** Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast)
————————————————————
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis
(The below Miles Davis interview by Alex Haley was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy Magazine. It was also published in Alex Haley: The Playboy Interviews by Ballantine Books in July 1993.)
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (September 1962)
In mid-1962, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner was given a partial transcript of an interview with jazz legend Miles Davis. It covered jazz, of course, but it also included Davis’s ruminations on race, politics and culture.
Fascinated, Hef sent the writer—future Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alex Haley (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_biography.htm) , an unknown at the time—back to glean even more opinion and insight from Davis.
The resulting exchange, published in the September 1962 issue, became the first official Playboy Interview and kicked off a remarkable run of public inquisition that continues today—and that has featured just about ever cultural titan of the last half century.
In the interview with Alex Haley, Davis candidly spoke about his thoughts and feelings on racism and it was that interview that set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine.
Here is a quote from Miles Davis: “Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.”
To celebrate the Interview’s 50th anniversary in 2012, the editors of Playboy have culled 50 of its most (in)famous Interviews and published them over the course of 50 weekdays (from September 4, 2012 to November 12, 2012) via Amazon’s Kindle Direct platform. Here is that first Interview with Miles Davis.
A Candid Conversation With The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast
“I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got is myself . . . and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.”
“In high school I was best in music class on the trumpet, but the prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn.”
“I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. You ever see anybody bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?”
The technical and emotional brilliance of the trumpet played by Miles Davis has made him one of the most provocative influences in modern jazz. We spent two days with Miles not long ago in his rather unusual five-story home, a converted Russian Orthodox Church on West 77th Street near the Hudson River in New York City. Miles was between gigs at the time and we accompanied him on his restless daily home routine, asking questions at propitious moments while he worked out in his basement gymnasium, made veal chops Italian style for his family, took telephone calls from fellow musicians, his lawyer and stockbroker, gave boxing lessons to his three sons, watched TV, plucked out beginner’s chords on a guitar and, of course, blew one of his two Martin trumpets, running up and down the chromatic scale with searing speed.
Spending time with Miles in the refuge of his own home, and seeing him surrounded by the activities and people he loves, it was hard to reconcile this reality with his sometimes flinty and truculent public posture. It was on this facet of his personality that we first queried him.
Haley: Linked with your musical renown is your reputation for bad temper and rudeness to your audiences. Would you comment?
Davis: Why is it that people just have to have so much to say about me? It bugs me because I’m not that important. Some critic that didn’t have nothing else to do started this crap about I don’t announce numbers, I don’t look at the audience, I don’t bow or talk to people, I walk off the stage, and all that.
Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.
The reason I don’t announce numbers is because it’s not until the last instant I decide what’s maybe the best thing to play next. Besides, if people don’t recognize a number when we play it, what difference does it make?
Why I sometimes walk off the stand is because when it’s somebody else’s turn to solo, I ain’t going to just stand up there and be detracting from him. What am I going to stand up there for? I ain’t no model, and I don’t sing or dance, and I damn sure ain’t no Uncle Tom just to be up there grinning. Sometimes I go over by the piano or the drums and listen to what they’re doing. But if I don’t want to do that, I go in the wings and listen to the whole band until it’s the next turn for my horn.
Then they claim I ignore the audience while I’m playing. Man, when I’m working, I know the people are out there. But when I’m playing, I’m worrying about making my horn sound right.
And they bitch that I won’t talk to people when we go off after a set. That’s a damn lie. I talk plenty of times if everything’s going like it ought to and I feel right. But if I got my mind on something about my band or something else, well, hell, no, I don’t want to talk. When I’m working I’m concentrating. I bet you if I was a doctor sewing on some son of a bitch’s heart, they wouldn’t want me to talk.
Anybody wants to believe all this crap they hear about me, it’s their problem, not mine. Because, look, man, I like people. I love people! I’m not going around telling everybody that. I try to say that my way—with my horn. Look, when I was a boy, 10 years old, I got a paper route and it got bigger than I could handle because my customers liked me so much. I just delivered papers the best I could and minded my business, the same way I play my horn now. But a lot of the people I meet now make me sick.
Haley: What types of people do you find especially irritating?
Davis: Well, these people that’s always coming up bugging me until they get me to act like this crap they heard. They ask you things, you say what you think, and if it ain’t what they want to hear, then something’s wrong with you and they go away mad and think you don’t like them. I bet I have had that happen 500 times. In this last club I played, this newspaper reporter kept after me when I told him I didn’t have no more to say. He wasn’t satisfied with that. After the next set, he come up again, either drunk or playing drunk, and shoved into me. I told him to get the hell out of my way, and then he was fine—he went right out and wrote that. But he didn’t tell how it happened.
And I’m mad every time I run into the Jim Crow scene, I don’t care what form it takes. You can’t hardly play anywhere you don’t run into some of these cats full of prejudice. I don’t know how many I’ve told, “Look, you want me to talk to you and you’re prejudiced against me and all that. Why’n’t you go on back where you’re sitting and be prejudiced by yourself and leave me alone?” I have enough problems without trying to make them feel better. Then they go off and join the rest saying I’m such a big bastard.
I’ve got no plans of changing what I think. I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. The average jazz musician today, if he’s making it, is just as trained as classical musicians. You ever see anybody go up bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?
Even in jazz—you look at the white bandleaders—if they don’t want anybody messing with them when they are working, you don’t hear anybody squawking. It’s just if a Negro is involved that there’s something wrong with him. My troubles started when I learned to play the trumpet and hadn’t learned to dance.
Haley: You feel that the complaints about you are because of your race?
Davis: I know damn well a lot of it is race. White people have certain things they expect from Negro musicians—just like they’ve got labels for the whole Negro race. It goes clear back to the slavery days. That was when Uncle Tomming got started because white people demanded it. Every little black child grew up seeing that getting along with white people meant grinning and acting clowns. It helped white people to feel easy about what they had done, and were doing, to Negroes, and that’s carried right on over to now. You bring it down to musicians, they want you to not only play your instrument, but to entertain them, too, with grinning and dancing.
Haley: Generally speaking, what are your feelings with regard to race?
Davis: I hate to talk about what I think of the mess because my friends are all colors. When I say that some of my best friends are white, I sure ain’t lying. The only white people I don’t like are the prejudiced white people. Those the shoe don’t fit, well, they don’t wear it. I don’t like the white people that show me they can’t understand that not just the Negroes, but the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and any other races that ain’t white, should be given dignity and respect like everybody else.
But let me straighten you—I ain’t saying I think all Negroes are the salt of the earth. It’s plenty of Negroes I can’t stand, too. Especially those that act like they think white people want them to. They bug me worse than Uncle Toms.
But prejudiced white people can’t see any of the other races as just individual people. If a white man robs a bank, it’s just a man robbed a bank. But if a Negro or a Puerto Rican does it, it’s them awful Negroes or Puerto Ricans. Hardly anybody not white hasn’t suffered from some of white people’s labels. It used to be said that all Negroes were shiftless and happy-go-lucky and lazy. But that’s been proved a lie so much that now the label is that what Negroes want integration for is so they can sleep in the bed with white people. It’s another damn lie. All Negroes want is to be free to do in this country just like anybody else. Prejudiced white people ask one another, “Would you want your sister to marry a Negro?” It’s a jive question to ask in the first place—as if white women stand around helpless if some Negro wants to drag one off to a preacher. It makes me sick to hear that. A Negro just might not want your sister. The Negro is always to blame if some white woman
decides she wants him. But it’s all right that ever since slavery, white men been having Negro women. Every Negro you see that ain’t black, that’s what’s happened somewhere in his background. The slaves they brought here were all black.
What makes me mad about these labels for Negroes is that very few white people really know what Negroes really feel like. A lot of white people have never even been in the company of an intelligent Negro. But you can hardly meet a white person, especially a white man, that don’t think he’s qualified to tell you all about Negroes.
You know the story the minute you meet some white cat and he comes off with a big show that he’s with you. It’s 10,000 things you can talk about, but the only thing he can think of is some other Negro he’s such close friends with. Intelligent Negroes are sick of hearing this. I don’t know how many times different whites have started talking, telling me they was raised up with a Negro boy. But I ain’t found one yet that knows whatever happened to that boy after they grew up.
Haley: Did you grow up with any white boys?
Davis: I didn’t grow up with any, not as friends, to speak of. But I went to school with some. In high school, I was the best in the music class on the trumpet. I knew it and all the rest knew it—but all the contest first prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. It made me so mad I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn. If I hadn’t met that prejudice, I probably wouldn’t have had as much drive in my work. I have thought about that a lot. I have thought that prejudice and curiosity have been responsible for what I have done in music.
Haley: What was the role of the curiosity?
Davis: I mean I always had a curiosity about trying new things in music. A new sound, another way to do something—things like that. But man, look, you know one of the biggest things that needs straightening up? The whole communication system of this country! Take the movies and TV. How many times do you see anybody in the films but white people? You don’t dig? Look, the next movie or TV you see, you count how many Negroes or any other race but white that you see. But you walk around in any city, you see the other races—I mean, in life they are part of the scene. But in the films supposed to represent this country, they ain’t there. You won’t hardly even see any in the street crowd scenes—because the studios didn’t bother to hire any as extras.
Negroes used to be servants and Uncle Toms in the movies. But so much stink was raised until they quit that. Now you do have some Negroes playing feature parts—maybe four or five a year. Most of the time, they have a role that’s special so it won’t offend nobody—then it’s a big production made like that picture is going to prove our democracy. Look, I ain’t saying that people making films are prejudiced. I can’t say what I don’t know. But I see the films they make, and I know they don’t think about the trouble a lot of colored people find with the movies and TV.
A big TV network wanted to do a show featuring me. I said no, and they asked me to just look at a show featuring a big-name Negro singer. No, I ain’t calling no names. Well, just like I knew, they had 18 girls dancing for the background—and every one of them was white. Later on, when I pointed this out to the TV people, they were shocked. They said they just hadn’t thought about that. I said I knew they hadn’t. Nobody seems to think much about the colored people and the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and Japanese that watch TV and buy the things they advertise. All these races want to see some of their own people represented in the shows—I mean, besides the big stars. I know I’d feel better to see some kids of all races dancing and acting on shows than I would feel about myself up there playing a horn. The only thing that makes me any different from them is I was lucky.
This black-white business is ticklish to try to explain. You don’t want to see Negroes every time you click on your set. That would be just as bad as now when you don’t see nobody but white people. But if movies and TV are supposed to reflect this country, and this country’s supposed to be democratic, then why don’t they do it? Let’s see all kinds of people dancing and acting. I see all kinds of kids downtown at the schools of dancing and acting, but from what I see in the movies and TV, it’s just the white ones that are getting any work.
Look, man, right in music you got the same thing happening. I got this album,Someday My Prince Will Come, and you know who’s on the jacket cover? My wife—Frances. I just got to thinking that as many record albums as Negroes buy, I hadn’t ever seen a Negro girl on a major album cover unless she was the artist. There wasn’t any harm meant—they just automatically thought about a white model and ordered one. It was my album and I’m Frances’ prince, so I suggested they use her for a model, and they did it.
But it ain’t all cases where white people just didn’t think about the other races. It’s a lot of intended discrimination, right in music. You got plenty of places that either won’t hire Negroes, or they hire just one that they point out. The network studios, the Broadway pit bands, the classical orchestras, the film studios, they all have color discrimination in hiring.
I tell you why I feel so strong about the communication system. I never have forgotten one time in Europe this nice old man told me how in World War II, the Europeans didn’t know what to make of Negro troops. They had their picture of this country from our magazines and movies, and with a very few exceptions like Pops Armstrong and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens, they didn’t know about any Negroes except servants and laborers.
Haley: Do you feel that your views are shared by most Negroes? And Puerto Ricans? And Orientals?
Davis: I can’t speak for them last two. I’m in no position, I just know what I personally feel for them. But I know that pretty nearly all Negroes hardly have any other choice about how they feel. They ain’t blind. They got to see what’s happening. It’s a thousand big and little ways that you run into the prejudices of white people. Just one thing—how long have Negroes been looking at immigrants coming into this country and can’t even speak the language, and in the second generations, they are in places the Negroes haven’t got to yet.
Look, not long ago this big magazine had this Southern truck driver saying he’d carry sandwiches if they let Negroes eat in them Maryland highway restaurants. But where he wants to eat ain’t my point—I’m talking about what he said. He said, “You give them a finger, they take an arm” and a lot more. You dig? When it comes to human rights, these prejudiced white people keep on acting like they own the damn franchise! And, man, with the world in the mess it’s in now, we trying to influence on our side all them Africans and Arabs and Indians and Chinese . . . You know two thirds of the people in the world ain’t white? They see all this crap with Negroes and supposed to feel white people really think any different about them? Man, somebody better get straight!
Another thing—there was no upset about them restaurants not serving Negroes, until it was an African they turned away. You think every Negro in the country don’t see what it says? It says that we been here 400 years, but it wasn’t no mess until they put out an African that just flew over here on a jet.
Haley: Do you, in your position as a famous Negro, meet prejudice?
Davis: I told you, someway or other, every Negro meets it, I don’t care who he is! Look, man, I sent for an electrician to fix something in the house. When he rang the bell, I answered and he looked at me like I was dirt, and said, “I want to see the owner, Mr. Davis.” When I said, “You looking at him,” the cat turned beet red. He had me figured as the porter. Now he’s mad and embarrassed. What had I done to him but called to give him work?
That same week, I had seen a lot of them West Point cadets, and in a bar I asked why there was so many of them in town. Man, I just asked the cat a question and he moved up the bar and didn’t speak! But then somebody recognized me and he got red as that electrician. He came trying to apologize and saying he had my records. I told him I had just paid enough taxes to cover his free ride at West Point, and I walked out. I guess he’s somewhere now with the others saying I’m such a bastard. It bugged me so, man, I wasn’t worth a damn for two or three days. It wasn’t just him ignoring me I was thinking about, but in two or three years, Gregory, my oldest boy, may be doing some Army time. How am I supposed to feel about him maybe serving under this cat?
Then take this tour I made—Frances and I had train reservations to California. But this clerk I showed my identification to, he took it and looked at me just like the West Point cat. When he said he had to check with somebody else, I asked him what was the trouble. You know he had the nerve to tell me I might have forged it! Ain’t no need of me telling you what I told him, nobody would print it. But we went to the airport and took a plane. I’m spending my money, the railroads are broke, even this son of a bitch’s job’s in trouble, but all he can see is I’m black, so it’s all right to insult me. Bad as I hate to fly, I ain’t been on a train since, because I haven’t met Jim Crow on the airlines.
Haley: In your field, music, don’t some Negro jazzmen discriminate against white musicians?
Davis: Crow Jim is what they call that. Yeah. It’s a lot of the Negro musicians mad because most of the best-paying jobs go to the white musicians playing what the Negroes created. But I don’t go for this, because I think prejudice one way is just as bad as the other way. I wouldn’t have no other arranger but Gil Evans—we couldn’t be much closer if he was my brother. And I remember one time when I hired Lee Konitz, some colored cats bitched a lot about me hiring an ofay in my band when Negroes didn’t have work. I said if a cat could play like Lee, I would hire him, I didn’t give a damn if he was green and had red breath.
Haley: Do you find that being the head of your band adds to your problems?
Davis: Fronting a band ain’t no fun. A lot of people don’t understand that music is business, it’s hard work and a big responsibility. I hate to even think what all I’ve been through to play my horn, and still go through. I put everything I’ve got into it. Even after a good rehearsal, I feel empty. And you add to playing your instrument the running of a band and you got plenty of problems. I got my own family, and the guys that work for me, and their families to think about. On one tour, I had this white woman in Kansas City meet me when I came off the stand and wanted me to come to her table with her and her husband for a drink. I told her I didn’t like to do that, and she hollered, “They said you’re like that!” I felt like throwing down my horn and kicking it. But I said to myself I was going to try and educate at least that one couple. So I went over and talked to them.
I told them an artist’s first responsibility was to himself. I said if he kept getting upset with what other people think he ought to do, he never would get too far, or he sure wouldn’t last. I tried to make them see how I had worked all my life to play myself and then to get a band worth people paying to hear. I said that a lot of times when people in a club wanted to talk to me, I needed to be worrying about something about my band. They said they understood. I hope they did.
Haley: You have been quoted as not being in favor of jazz concerts. Why?
Davis: Nobody can relax at concerts, the musicians or the people, either. You can’t do nothing but sit down, you can’t move around, you can’t have a drink. A musician has to be able to let loose everything in him to reach the people. If the musician can’t relax, how’s he going to make the people feel what he feels? The whole scene of jazz is feeling.
Haley: Do you now ever indulge in jam sessions?
Davis: I wish there was some jam sessions to sit in. But there ain’t none left—at least not in the big cities. I used to sit in some great ones around St. Louis and in Brooklyn, Illinois. We would blow sometimes clear up until the next afternoon. When I go back there now, I sit in with a little blues band. They have the feeling.
Haley: You’ve won all the trumpet polls. After yourself, how would you rank others?
Davis: After me! Hell, it’s plenty great trumpet players don’t come after me, or afternobody else! That’s what I hate so about critics—how they are always comparingartists . . . always writing that one’s better than another one. Ten men can have spent all their lives learning technical expertness on their instruments, but just like in any art, one will play one style and the rest nine other ways. And if some critics just don’t happen to like a man’s style, they will knock the artist. That bugs the hell out of musicians. It’s made some damn near mad enough to want to hang up their horns.
Trumpet players, like anybody else, are individualized by their different ideas and styles. The thing to judge in any jazz artist is does the man project, and does he have ideas. You take Dizzy—he does, all the time, every time he picks up his horn. Some more cats—Clark Terry, Ray Nance, Kenny Dorham, Roy Eldridge, Harold Baker, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hackett—a lot of them. Hell, that cat down in New Orleans, Al Hirt, he blows his ass off, too!
Haley: Is there any special reason you didn’t mention Louis Armstrong?
Davis: Oh, Pops? No, why I didn’t mention him is because I was talking just about modern-jazz players. I love Pops, I love the way he sings, the way he plays—everything he does, except when he says something against modern-jazz music. He ought to realize that he was a pioneer, too. No, he wasn’t an influence of mine, and I’ve had very little direct contact with Pops. A long time ago, I was at Bop City, and he came in and told me he liked my playing. I don’t know if he would even remember it, but I remember how good I felt to have him say it. People really dig Pops like I do myself. He does a good job overseas with his personality. But they ought to send him down South for goodwill. They need goodwill worse in Georgia and Alabama and Mississippi than they do in Europe.
Haley: To go back a moment, you expressed a sharp dislike of critics. Are there other reasons besides their comparing musicians?
Davis: Well, aside from that, I get sick of how a lot of them write whole columns and pages of big words and still ain’t saying nothing. If you have spent your life getting to know your business and the other cats in it, and what they are doing, then you know if a critic knows what he’s talking about. Most of the time they don’t.
I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself. My music has got to get past me and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.
No, I ain’t going to name critics I don’t like. But I will tell you some that I respect what they write—Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason and Leonard Feather. And some others, I can’t right off think of their names. But it ain’t a long list.
Haley: Are there any particular places or clubs that you don’t like to play?
Davis: There are plenty I won’t play! I won’t take a booking nowhere in the South. I told you I just can’t stand Jim Crow, so I ain’t going down there in it. There’s enough of it here in the North, but at least you have the support of some laws.
I won’t play nowhere I know has the kind of audiences that you waste your breath to play for. I’m talking about them expense-account ofays that use music as a background for getting high and trying to show off to the women they brought. They ain’t come to hear good music. They don’t even know how to enjoy themselves. They drink too much, they get loud, they got to be seen and heard. They’ll jump up and dance jigs and sing. They ain’t got no manners—don’t pay their women no respect. What they really want is some Uncle Tom entertainment if it’s a Negro group on the stand. These are the kind will holler, “Hey, boy, play Sweet Georgia Brown!” You supposed to grin and play that. I hate to play in a place full of those kind of squares so bad that if there wasn’t nobody else to play to, I’d invest in some more property and just stay home and collect rents. I can’t stand dumb-ass people not respecting the other customers that have come to hear the music. Sometimes one table like that
has bugged me so that when I get home or to my hotel, I walk the floor because I can’t sleep.
I told you I ain’t going to play nowhere in the South that Negroes can’t come. But I ain’t going to play nowhere in the North that Negroes don’t come. It’s one of two reasons they won’t, either because they know they ain’t wanted, or because they don’t like the joint’s regular run of music. Negroes ain’t got as much money to throw away in night clubs as white people. So a club that Negroes patronize, you can figure that everybody that goes there comes expecting to hear good music.
Haley: What is your opinion of the jazz audiences in Europe?
Davis: European audiences are generally more hip about the background of jazz than most of the fans here. Some cats hardly heard of here are big record sellers in Europe. In this country, it’s more following of personalities. You want to hear something funny? One club-owner friend of mine said a lot of people pay their money to come where I’m playing just because they want to see me—they heard I’m so bad. Ain’t that a bitch?
But this country has a lot of great fans. You know, they appreciate what you’re trying to do, and that inspires a musician to give his best. I know some Americans that don’t stop with just knowing jazz, but that even think just like musicians.
Haley: Do you plan another European tour soon?
Davis: Maybe. I like to play in Europe every now and then, but I don’t like to spend no more time out of this house than I can help. Jack Whittemore, my booking agent at Shaw Artists, schedules me so I don’t stay long on the road. I like to have time at home to be with my kids and Frances, and to just think about things—like worrying about the people running this Government maybe slipping and getting us into another war. But I like them Kennedy brothers—they’re swinging people.
Haley: Would it please you if the image of you changed, that people quit regarding you as a tough guy?
Davis: Well, nobody wants to be always accused of something he ain’t done. But people that want to think that, it’s their worry, it ain’t mine. I’m like I am, and I ain’t planning to change. I ain’t scared of nothing or nobody, I already been through too much. I ought to be dead from just what I went through when I was on dope. I ain’t going around anywhere trying to be tough and a racist. I just say what I think, and that bugs people, especially a lot of white people. When they look in my eyes and don’t see no fear, they know it’s a draw.
Haley: Have you always been so sensitive about being a Negro?
Davis: About the first thing I can remember as a little boy was a white man running me down a street hollering “Nigger! Nigger!” My father went hunting him with a shotgun. Being sensitive and having race pride has been in my family since slave days. The slave Davises played classical string music on the plantations. My father, Miles the first, was born six years after the Emancipation. He wanted to play music, but my grandfather wanted him to be more than an entertainer for white folks. He made him go to Northwestern to be a dental surgeon. My father is worth more than I am. He’s a high-priced dental surgeon with more practice than he can handle—because he’s good at his business—and he raises hogs with pedigrees. It’s a special breed of hogs with some funny name I would tell you, but I never can remember it.
Haley: You’re said to be one of the financially best-off popular musicians. Is this correct?
Davis: Well, I don’t have any access to other musicians’ bankbooks. But I never have been what you would call poor. I grew up with an allowance, and I had a big newspaper route. I saved most of what I made except for buying records. But when I first left home as a musician, I used to spend all I made, and when I went on dope, I got in debt. But after I got enough sense to kick the habit, I started to make more than I needed to spend unless I was crazy or something.
Now I got a pretty good portfolio of stock investments, and I got this house—it’s worth into six figures, including everything in it. My four kids are coming up fine. When the boys get in from school, I want you to see them working out on the bags in our gym downstairs. I keep myself in shape and teach the kids how to box. They can handle themselves. Ain’t nothing better that a father can pass along.
Then I got my music, I got Frances, and my Ferrari—and our friends. I got everything a man could want—if it just wasn’t for this prejudice crap. It ain’t that I’m mad at white people, I just see what I see and I know what’s happening. I am going to speak my mind about anything that drags me about this Jim Crow scene. This whole prejudice mess is something you would feel so good if it could just be got rid of, like a big sore eating inside of your belly.
(The above interview by Alex Haley is presented to our audience under the Creative Commons License (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_creative_commons_license_usage.htm) . It was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy. © 1962 Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. © 1993 by Ballantine Books. All Rights Reserved.)
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** Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast)
————————————————————
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis
(The below Miles Davis interview by Alex Haley was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy Magazine. It was also published in Alex Haley: The Playboy Interviews by Ballantine Books in July 1993.)
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (September 1962)
In mid-1962, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner was given a partial transcript of an interview with jazz legend Miles Davis. It covered jazz, of course, but it also included Davis’s ruminations on race, politics and culture.
Fascinated, Hef sent the writer—future Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alex Haley (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_biography.htm) , an unknown at the time—back to glean even more opinion and insight from Davis.
The resulting exchange, published in the September 1962 issue, became the first official Playboy Interview and kicked off a remarkable run of public inquisition that continues today—and that has featured just about ever cultural titan of the last half century.
In the interview with Alex Haley, Davis candidly spoke about his thoughts and feelings on racism and it was that interview that set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine.
Here is a quote from Miles Davis: “Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.”
To celebrate the Interview’s 50th anniversary in 2012, the editors of Playboy have culled 50 of its most (in)famous Interviews and published them over the course of 50 weekdays (from September 4, 2012 to November 12, 2012) via Amazon’s Kindle Direct platform. Here is that first Interview with Miles Davis.
A Candid Conversation With The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast
“I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got is myself . . . and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.”
“In high school I was best in music class on the trumpet, but the prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn.”
“I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. You ever see anybody bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?”
The technical and emotional brilliance of the trumpet played by Miles Davis has made him one of the most provocative influences in modern jazz. We spent two days with Miles not long ago in his rather unusual five-story home, a converted Russian Orthodox Church on West 77th Street near the Hudson River in New York City. Miles was between gigs at the time and we accompanied him on his restless daily home routine, asking questions at propitious moments while he worked out in his basement gymnasium, made veal chops Italian style for his family, took telephone calls from fellow musicians, his lawyer and stockbroker, gave boxing lessons to his three sons, watched TV, plucked out beginner’s chords on a guitar and, of course, blew one of his two Martin trumpets, running up and down the chromatic scale with searing speed.
Spending time with Miles in the refuge of his own home, and seeing him surrounded by the activities and people he loves, it was hard to reconcile this reality with his sometimes flinty and truculent public posture. It was on this facet of his personality that we first queried him.
Haley: Linked with your musical renown is your reputation for bad temper and rudeness to your audiences. Would you comment?
Davis: Why is it that people just have to have so much to say about me? It bugs me because I’m not that important. Some critic that didn’t have nothing else to do started this crap about I don’t announce numbers, I don’t look at the audience, I don’t bow or talk to people, I walk off the stage, and all that.
Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.
The reason I don’t announce numbers is because it’s not until the last instant I decide what’s maybe the best thing to play next. Besides, if people don’t recognize a number when we play it, what difference does it make?
Why I sometimes walk off the stand is because when it’s somebody else’s turn to solo, I ain’t going to just stand up there and be detracting from him. What am I going to stand up there for? I ain’t no model, and I don’t sing or dance, and I damn sure ain’t no Uncle Tom just to be up there grinning. Sometimes I go over by the piano or the drums and listen to what they’re doing. But if I don’t want to do that, I go in the wings and listen to the whole band until it’s the next turn for my horn.
Then they claim I ignore the audience while I’m playing. Man, when I’m working, I know the people are out there. But when I’m playing, I’m worrying about making my horn sound right.
And they bitch that I won’t talk to people when we go off after a set. That’s a damn lie. I talk plenty of times if everything’s going like it ought to and I feel right. But if I got my mind on something about my band or something else, well, hell, no, I don’t want to talk. When I’m working I’m concentrating. I bet you if I was a doctor sewing on some son of a bitch’s heart, they wouldn’t want me to talk.
Anybody wants to believe all this crap they hear about me, it’s their problem, not mine. Because, look, man, I like people. I love people! I’m not going around telling everybody that. I try to say that my way—with my horn. Look, when I was a boy, 10 years old, I got a paper route and it got bigger than I could handle because my customers liked me so much. I just delivered papers the best I could and minded my business, the same way I play my horn now. But a lot of the people I meet now make me sick.
Haley: What types of people do you find especially irritating?
Davis: Well, these people that’s always coming up bugging me until they get me to act like this crap they heard. They ask you things, you say what you think, and if it ain’t what they want to hear, then something’s wrong with you and they go away mad and think you don’t like them. I bet I have had that happen 500 times. In this last club I played, this newspaper reporter kept after me when I told him I didn’t have no more to say. He wasn’t satisfied with that. After the next set, he come up again, either drunk or playing drunk, and shoved into me. I told him to get the hell out of my way, and then he was fine—he went right out and wrote that. But he didn’t tell how it happened.
And I’m mad every time I run into the Jim Crow scene, I don’t care what form it takes. You can’t hardly play anywhere you don’t run into some of these cats full of prejudice. I don’t know how many I’ve told, “Look, you want me to talk to you and you’re prejudiced against me and all that. Why’n’t you go on back where you’re sitting and be prejudiced by yourself and leave me alone?” I have enough problems without trying to make them feel better. Then they go off and join the rest saying I’m such a big bastard.
I’ve got no plans of changing what I think. I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. The average jazz musician today, if he’s making it, is just as trained as classical musicians. You ever see anybody go up bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?
Even in jazz—you look at the white bandleaders—if they don’t want anybody messing with them when they are working, you don’t hear anybody squawking. It’s just if a Negro is involved that there’s something wrong with him. My troubles started when I learned to play the trumpet and hadn’t learned to dance.
Haley: You feel that the complaints about you are because of your race?
Davis: I know damn well a lot of it is race. White people have certain things they expect from Negro musicians—just like they’ve got labels for the whole Negro race. It goes clear back to the slavery days. That was when Uncle Tomming got started because white people demanded it. Every little black child grew up seeing that getting along with white people meant grinning and acting clowns. It helped white people to feel easy about what they had done, and were doing, to Negroes, and that’s carried right on over to now. You bring it down to musicians, they want you to not only play your instrument, but to entertain them, too, with grinning and dancing.
Haley: Generally speaking, what are your feelings with regard to race?
Davis: I hate to talk about what I think of the mess because my friends are all colors. When I say that some of my best friends are white, I sure ain’t lying. The only white people I don’t like are the prejudiced white people. Those the shoe don’t fit, well, they don’t wear it. I don’t like the white people that show me they can’t understand that not just the Negroes, but the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and any other races that ain’t white, should be given dignity and respect like everybody else.
But let me straighten you—I ain’t saying I think all Negroes are the salt of the earth. It’s plenty of Negroes I can’t stand, too. Especially those that act like they think white people want them to. They bug me worse than Uncle Toms.
But prejudiced white people can’t see any of the other races as just individual people. If a white man robs a bank, it’s just a man robbed a bank. But if a Negro or a Puerto Rican does it, it’s them awful Negroes or Puerto Ricans. Hardly anybody not white hasn’t suffered from some of white people’s labels. It used to be said that all Negroes were shiftless and happy-go-lucky and lazy. But that’s been proved a lie so much that now the label is that what Negroes want integration for is so they can sleep in the bed with white people. It’s another damn lie. All Negroes want is to be free to do in this country just like anybody else. Prejudiced white people ask one another, “Would you want your sister to marry a Negro?” It’s a jive question to ask in the first place—as if white women stand around helpless if some Negro wants to drag one off to a preacher. It makes me sick to hear that. A Negro just might not want your sister. The Negro is always to blame if some white woman
decides she wants him. But it’s all right that ever since slavery, white men been having Negro women. Every Negro you see that ain’t black, that’s what’s happened somewhere in his background. The slaves they brought here were all black.
What makes me mad about these labels for Negroes is that very few white people really know what Negroes really feel like. A lot of white people have never even been in the company of an intelligent Negro. But you can hardly meet a white person, especially a white man, that don’t think he’s qualified to tell you all about Negroes.
You know the story the minute you meet some white cat and he comes off with a big show that he’s with you. It’s 10,000 things you can talk about, but the only thing he can think of is some other Negro he’s such close friends with. Intelligent Negroes are sick of hearing this. I don’t know how many times different whites have started talking, telling me they was raised up with a Negro boy. But I ain’t found one yet that knows whatever happened to that boy after they grew up.
Haley: Did you grow up with any white boys?
Davis: I didn’t grow up with any, not as friends, to speak of. But I went to school with some. In high school, I was the best in the music class on the trumpet. I knew it and all the rest knew it—but all the contest first prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. It made me so mad I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn. If I hadn’t met that prejudice, I probably wouldn’t have had as much drive in my work. I have thought about that a lot. I have thought that prejudice and curiosity have been responsible for what I have done in music.
Haley: What was the role of the curiosity?
Davis: I mean I always had a curiosity about trying new things in music. A new sound, another way to do something—things like that. But man, look, you know one of the biggest things that needs straightening up? The whole communication system of this country! Take the movies and TV. How many times do you see anybody in the films but white people? You don’t dig? Look, the next movie or TV you see, you count how many Negroes or any other race but white that you see. But you walk around in any city, you see the other races—I mean, in life they are part of the scene. But in the films supposed to represent this country, they ain’t there. You won’t hardly even see any in the street crowd scenes—because the studios didn’t bother to hire any as extras.
Negroes used to be servants and Uncle Toms in the movies. But so much stink was raised until they quit that. Now you do have some Negroes playing feature parts—maybe four or five a year. Most of the time, they have a role that’s special so it won’t offend nobody—then it’s a big production made like that picture is going to prove our democracy. Look, I ain’t saying that people making films are prejudiced. I can’t say what I don’t know. But I see the films they make, and I know they don’t think about the trouble a lot of colored people find with the movies and TV.
A big TV network wanted to do a show featuring me. I said no, and they asked me to just look at a show featuring a big-name Negro singer. No, I ain’t calling no names. Well, just like I knew, they had 18 girls dancing for the background—and every one of them was white. Later on, when I pointed this out to the TV people, they were shocked. They said they just hadn’t thought about that. I said I knew they hadn’t. Nobody seems to think much about the colored people and the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and Japanese that watch TV and buy the things they advertise. All these races want to see some of their own people represented in the shows—I mean, besides the big stars. I know I’d feel better to see some kids of all races dancing and acting on shows than I would feel about myself up there playing a horn. The only thing that makes me any different from them is I was lucky.
This black-white business is ticklish to try to explain. You don’t want to see Negroes every time you click on your set. That would be just as bad as now when you don’t see nobody but white people. But if movies and TV are supposed to reflect this country, and this country’s supposed to be democratic, then why don’t they do it? Let’s see all kinds of people dancing and acting. I see all kinds of kids downtown at the schools of dancing and acting, but from what I see in the movies and TV, it’s just the white ones that are getting any work.
Look, man, right in music you got the same thing happening. I got this album,Someday My Prince Will Come, and you know who’s on the jacket cover? My wife—Frances. I just got to thinking that as many record albums as Negroes buy, I hadn’t ever seen a Negro girl on a major album cover unless she was the artist. There wasn’t any harm meant—they just automatically thought about a white model and ordered one. It was my album and I’m Frances’ prince, so I suggested they use her for a model, and they did it.
But it ain’t all cases where white people just didn’t think about the other races. It’s a lot of intended discrimination, right in music. You got plenty of places that either won’t hire Negroes, or they hire just one that they point out. The network studios, the Broadway pit bands, the classical orchestras, the film studios, they all have color discrimination in hiring.
I tell you why I feel so strong about the communication system. I never have forgotten one time in Europe this nice old man told me how in World War II, the Europeans didn’t know what to make of Negro troops. They had their picture of this country from our magazines and movies, and with a very few exceptions like Pops Armstrong and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens, they didn’t know about any Negroes except servants and laborers.
Haley: Do you feel that your views are shared by most Negroes? And Puerto Ricans? And Orientals?
Davis: I can’t speak for them last two. I’m in no position, I just know what I personally feel for them. But I know that pretty nearly all Negroes hardly have any other choice about how they feel. They ain’t blind. They got to see what’s happening. It’s a thousand big and little ways that you run into the prejudices of white people. Just one thing—how long have Negroes been looking at immigrants coming into this country and can’t even speak the language, and in the second generations, they are in places the Negroes haven’t got to yet.
Look, not long ago this big magazine had this Southern truck driver saying he’d carry sandwiches if they let Negroes eat in them Maryland highway restaurants. But where he wants to eat ain’t my point—I’m talking about what he said. He said, “You give them a finger, they take an arm” and a lot more. You dig? When it comes to human rights, these prejudiced white people keep on acting like they own the damn franchise! And, man, with the world in the mess it’s in now, we trying to influence on our side all them Africans and Arabs and Indians and Chinese . . . You know two thirds of the people in the world ain’t white? They see all this crap with Negroes and supposed to feel white people really think any different about them? Man, somebody better get straight!
Another thing—there was no upset about them restaurants not serving Negroes, until it was an African they turned away. You think every Negro in the country don’t see what it says? It says that we been here 400 years, but it wasn’t no mess until they put out an African that just flew over here on a jet.
Haley: Do you, in your position as a famous Negro, meet prejudice?
Davis: I told you, someway or other, every Negro meets it, I don’t care who he is! Look, man, I sent for an electrician to fix something in the house. When he rang the bell, I answered and he looked at me like I was dirt, and said, “I want to see the owner, Mr. Davis.” When I said, “You looking at him,” the cat turned beet red. He had me figured as the porter. Now he’s mad and embarrassed. What had I done to him but called to give him work?
That same week, I had seen a lot of them West Point cadets, and in a bar I asked why there was so many of them in town. Man, I just asked the cat a question and he moved up the bar and didn’t speak! But then somebody recognized me and he got red as that electrician. He came trying to apologize and saying he had my records. I told him I had just paid enough taxes to cover his free ride at West Point, and I walked out. I guess he’s somewhere now with the others saying I’m such a bastard. It bugged me so, man, I wasn’t worth a damn for two or three days. It wasn’t just him ignoring me I was thinking about, but in two or three years, Gregory, my oldest boy, may be doing some Army time. How am I supposed to feel about him maybe serving under this cat?
Then take this tour I made—Frances and I had train reservations to California. But this clerk I showed my identification to, he took it and looked at me just like the West Point cat. When he said he had to check with somebody else, I asked him what was the trouble. You know he had the nerve to tell me I might have forged it! Ain’t no need of me telling you what I told him, nobody would print it. But we went to the airport and took a plane. I’m spending my money, the railroads are broke, even this son of a bitch’s job’s in trouble, but all he can see is I’m black, so it’s all right to insult me. Bad as I hate to fly, I ain’t been on a train since, because I haven’t met Jim Crow on the airlines.
Haley: In your field, music, don’t some Negro jazzmen discriminate against white musicians?
Davis: Crow Jim is what they call that. Yeah. It’s a lot of the Negro musicians mad because most of the best-paying jobs go to the white musicians playing what the Negroes created. But I don’t go for this, because I think prejudice one way is just as bad as the other way. I wouldn’t have no other arranger but Gil Evans—we couldn’t be much closer if he was my brother. And I remember one time when I hired Lee Konitz, some colored cats bitched a lot about me hiring an ofay in my band when Negroes didn’t have work. I said if a cat could play like Lee, I would hire him, I didn’t give a damn if he was green and had red breath.
Haley: Do you find that being the head of your band adds to your problems?
Davis: Fronting a band ain’t no fun. A lot of people don’t understand that music is business, it’s hard work and a big responsibility. I hate to even think what all I’ve been through to play my horn, and still go through. I put everything I’ve got into it. Even after a good rehearsal, I feel empty. And you add to playing your instrument the running of a band and you got plenty of problems. I got my own family, and the guys that work for me, and their families to think about. On one tour, I had this white woman in Kansas City meet me when I came off the stand and wanted me to come to her table with her and her husband for a drink. I told her I didn’t like to do that, and she hollered, “They said you’re like that!” I felt like throwing down my horn and kicking it. But I said to myself I was going to try and educate at least that one couple. So I went over and talked to them.
I told them an artist’s first responsibility was to himself. I said if he kept getting upset with what other people think he ought to do, he never would get too far, or he sure wouldn’t last. I tried to make them see how I had worked all my life to play myself and then to get a band worth people paying to hear. I said that a lot of times when people in a club wanted to talk to me, I needed to be worrying about something about my band. They said they understood. I hope they did.
Haley: You have been quoted as not being in favor of jazz concerts. Why?
Davis: Nobody can relax at concerts, the musicians or the people, either. You can’t do nothing but sit down, you can’t move around, you can’t have a drink. A musician has to be able to let loose everything in him to reach the people. If the musician can’t relax, how’s he going to make the people feel what he feels? The whole scene of jazz is feeling.
Haley: Do you now ever indulge in jam sessions?
Davis: I wish there was some jam sessions to sit in. But there ain’t none left—at least not in the big cities. I used to sit in some great ones around St. Louis and in Brooklyn, Illinois. We would blow sometimes clear up until the next afternoon. When I go back there now, I sit in with a little blues band. They have the feeling.
Haley: You’ve won all the trumpet polls. After yourself, how would you rank others?
Davis: After me! Hell, it’s plenty great trumpet players don’t come after me, or afternobody else! That’s what I hate so about critics—how they are always comparingartists . . . always writing that one’s better than another one. Ten men can have spent all their lives learning technical expertness on their instruments, but just like in any art, one will play one style and the rest nine other ways. And if some critics just don’t happen to like a man’s style, they will knock the artist. That bugs the hell out of musicians. It’s made some damn near mad enough to want to hang up their horns.
Trumpet players, like anybody else, are individualized by their different ideas and styles. The thing to judge in any jazz artist is does the man project, and does he have ideas. You take Dizzy—he does, all the time, every time he picks up his horn. Some more cats—Clark Terry, Ray Nance, Kenny Dorham, Roy Eldridge, Harold Baker, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hackett—a lot of them. Hell, that cat down in New Orleans, Al Hirt, he blows his ass off, too!
Haley: Is there any special reason you didn’t mention Louis Armstrong?
Davis: Oh, Pops? No, why I didn’t mention him is because I was talking just about modern-jazz players. I love Pops, I love the way he sings, the way he plays—everything he does, except when he says something against modern-jazz music. He ought to realize that he was a pioneer, too. No, he wasn’t an influence of mine, and I’ve had very little direct contact with Pops. A long time ago, I was at Bop City, and he came in and told me he liked my playing. I don’t know if he would even remember it, but I remember how good I felt to have him say it. People really dig Pops like I do myself. He does a good job overseas with his personality. But they ought to send him down South for goodwill. They need goodwill worse in Georgia and Alabama and Mississippi than they do in Europe.
Haley: To go back a moment, you expressed a sharp dislike of critics. Are there other reasons besides their comparing musicians?
Davis: Well, aside from that, I get sick of how a lot of them write whole columns and pages of big words and still ain’t saying nothing. If you have spent your life getting to know your business and the other cats in it, and what they are doing, then you know if a critic knows what he’s talking about. Most of the time they don’t.
I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself. My music has got to get past me and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.
No, I ain’t going to name critics I don’t like. But I will tell you some that I respect what they write—Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason and Leonard Feather. And some others, I can’t right off think of their names. But it ain’t a long list.
Haley: Are there any particular places or clubs that you don’t like to play?
Davis: There are plenty I won’t play! I won’t take a booking nowhere in the South. I told you I just can’t stand Jim Crow, so I ain’t going down there in it. There’s enough of it here in the North, but at least you have the support of some laws.
I won’t play nowhere I know has the kind of audiences that you waste your breath to play for. I’m talking about them expense-account ofays that use music as a background for getting high and trying to show off to the women they brought. They ain’t come to hear good music. They don’t even know how to enjoy themselves. They drink too much, they get loud, they got to be seen and heard. They’ll jump up and dance jigs and sing. They ain’t got no manners—don’t pay their women no respect. What they really want is some Uncle Tom entertainment if it’s a Negro group on the stand. These are the kind will holler, “Hey, boy, play Sweet Georgia Brown!” You supposed to grin and play that. I hate to play in a place full of those kind of squares so bad that if there wasn’t nobody else to play to, I’d invest in some more property and just stay home and collect rents. I can’t stand dumb-ass people not respecting the other customers that have come to hear the music. Sometimes one table like that
has bugged me so that when I get home or to my hotel, I walk the floor because I can’t sleep.
I told you I ain’t going to play nowhere in the South that Negroes can’t come. But I ain’t going to play nowhere in the North that Negroes don’t come. It’s one of two reasons they won’t, either because they know they ain’t wanted, or because they don’t like the joint’s regular run of music. Negroes ain’t got as much money to throw away in night clubs as white people. So a club that Negroes patronize, you can figure that everybody that goes there comes expecting to hear good music.
Haley: What is your opinion of the jazz audiences in Europe?
Davis: European audiences are generally more hip about the background of jazz than most of the fans here. Some cats hardly heard of here are big record sellers in Europe. In this country, it’s more following of personalities. You want to hear something funny? One club-owner friend of mine said a lot of people pay their money to come where I’m playing just because they want to see me—they heard I’m so bad. Ain’t that a bitch?
But this country has a lot of great fans. You know, they appreciate what you’re trying to do, and that inspires a musician to give his best. I know some Americans that don’t stop with just knowing jazz, but that even think just like musicians.
Haley: Do you plan another European tour soon?
Davis: Maybe. I like to play in Europe every now and then, but I don’t like to spend no more time out of this house than I can help. Jack Whittemore, my booking agent at Shaw Artists, schedules me so I don’t stay long on the road. I like to have time at home to be with my kids and Frances, and to just think about things—like worrying about the people running this Government maybe slipping and getting us into another war. But I like them Kennedy brothers—they’re swinging people.
Haley: Would it please you if the image of you changed, that people quit regarding you as a tough guy?
Davis: Well, nobody wants to be always accused of something he ain’t done. But people that want to think that, it’s their worry, it ain’t mine. I’m like I am, and I ain’t planning to change. I ain’t scared of nothing or nobody, I already been through too much. I ought to be dead from just what I went through when I was on dope. I ain’t going around anywhere trying to be tough and a racist. I just say what I think, and that bugs people, especially a lot of white people. When they look in my eyes and don’t see no fear, they know it’s a draw.
Haley: Have you always been so sensitive about being a Negro?
Davis: About the first thing I can remember as a little boy was a white man running me down a street hollering “Nigger! Nigger!” My father went hunting him with a shotgun. Being sensitive and having race pride has been in my family since slave days. The slave Davises played classical string music on the plantations. My father, Miles the first, was born six years after the Emancipation. He wanted to play music, but my grandfather wanted him to be more than an entertainer for white folks. He made him go to Northwestern to be a dental surgeon. My father is worth more than I am. He’s a high-priced dental surgeon with more practice than he can handle—because he’s good at his business—and he raises hogs with pedigrees. It’s a special breed of hogs with some funny name I would tell you, but I never can remember it.
Haley: You’re said to be one of the financially best-off popular musicians. Is this correct?
Davis: Well, I don’t have any access to other musicians’ bankbooks. But I never have been what you would call poor. I grew up with an allowance, and I had a big newspaper route. I saved most of what I made except for buying records. But when I first left home as a musician, I used to spend all I made, and when I went on dope, I got in debt. But after I got enough sense to kick the habit, I started to make more than I needed to spend unless I was crazy or something.
Now I got a pretty good portfolio of stock investments, and I got this house—it’s worth into six figures, including everything in it. My four kids are coming up fine. When the boys get in from school, I want you to see them working out on the bags in our gym downstairs. I keep myself in shape and teach the kids how to box. They can handle themselves. Ain’t nothing better that a father can pass along.
Then I got my music, I got Frances, and my Ferrari—and our friends. I got everything a man could want—if it just wasn’t for this prejudice crap. It ain’t that I’m mad at white people, I just see what I see and I know what’s happening. I am going to speak my mind about anything that drags me about this Jim Crow scene. This whole prejudice mess is something you would feel so good if it could just be got rid of, like a big sore eating inside of your belly.
(The above interview by Alex Haley is presented to our audience under the Creative Commons License (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_creative_commons_license_usage.htm) . It was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy. © 1962 Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. © 1993 by Ballantine Books. All Rights Reserved.)
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** Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast)
————————————————————
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis
(The below Miles Davis interview by Alex Haley was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy Magazine. It was also published in Alex Haley: The Playboy Interviews by Ballantine Books in July 1993.)
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (September 1962)
In mid-1962, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner was given a partial transcript of an interview with jazz legend Miles Davis. It covered jazz, of course, but it also included Davis’s ruminations on race, politics and culture.
Fascinated, Hef sent the writer—future Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alex Haley (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_biography.htm) , an unknown at the time—back to glean even more opinion and insight from Davis.
The resulting exchange, published in the September 1962 issue, became the first official Playboy Interview and kicked off a remarkable run of public inquisition that continues today—and that has featured just about ever cultural titan of the last half century.
In the interview with Alex Haley, Davis candidly spoke about his thoughts and feelings on racism and it was that interview that set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine.
Here is a quote from Miles Davis: “Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.”
To celebrate the Interview’s 50th anniversary in 2012, the editors of Playboy have culled 50 of its most (in)famous Interviews and published them over the course of 50 weekdays (from September 4, 2012 to November 12, 2012) via Amazon’s Kindle Direct platform. Here is that first Interview with Miles Davis.
A Candid Conversation With The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast
“I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got is myself . . . and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.”
“In high school I was best in music class on the trumpet, but the prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn.”
“I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. You ever see anybody bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?”
The technical and emotional brilliance of the trumpet played by Miles Davis has made him one of the most provocative influences in modern jazz. We spent two days with Miles not long ago in his rather unusual five-story home, a converted Russian Orthodox Church on West 77th Street near the Hudson River in New York City. Miles was between gigs at the time and we accompanied him on his restless daily home routine, asking questions at propitious moments while he worked out in his basement gymnasium, made veal chops Italian style for his family, took telephone calls from fellow musicians, his lawyer and stockbroker, gave boxing lessons to his three sons, watched TV, plucked out beginner’s chords on a guitar and, of course, blew one of his two Martin trumpets, running up and down the chromatic scale with searing speed.
Spending time with Miles in the refuge of his own home, and seeing him surrounded by the activities and people he loves, it was hard to reconcile this reality with his sometimes flinty and truculent public posture. It was on this facet of his personality that we first queried him.
Haley: Linked with your musical renown is your reputation for bad temper and rudeness to your audiences. Would you comment?
Davis: Why is it that people just have to have so much to say about me? It bugs me because I’m not that important. Some critic that didn’t have nothing else to do started this crap about I don’t announce numbers, I don’t look at the audience, I don’t bow or talk to people, I walk off the stage, and all that.
Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.
The reason I don’t announce numbers is because it’s not until the last instant I decide what’s maybe the best thing to play next. Besides, if people don’t recognize a number when we play it, what difference does it make?
Why I sometimes walk off the stand is because when it’s somebody else’s turn to solo, I ain’t going to just stand up there and be detracting from him. What am I going to stand up there for? I ain’t no model, and I don’t sing or dance, and I damn sure ain’t no Uncle Tom just to be up there grinning. Sometimes I go over by the piano or the drums and listen to what they’re doing. But if I don’t want to do that, I go in the wings and listen to the whole band until it’s the next turn for my horn.
Then they claim I ignore the audience while I’m playing. Man, when I’m working, I know the people are out there. But when I’m playing, I’m worrying about making my horn sound right.
And they bitch that I won’t talk to people when we go off after a set. That’s a damn lie. I talk plenty of times if everything’s going like it ought to and I feel right. But if I got my mind on something about my band or something else, well, hell, no, I don’t want to talk. When I’m working I’m concentrating. I bet you if I was a doctor sewing on some son of a bitch’s heart, they wouldn’t want me to talk.
Anybody wants to believe all this crap they hear about me, it’s their problem, not mine. Because, look, man, I like people. I love people! I’m not going around telling everybody that. I try to say that my way—with my horn. Look, when I was a boy, 10 years old, I got a paper route and it got bigger than I could handle because my customers liked me so much. I just delivered papers the best I could and minded my business, the same way I play my horn now. But a lot of the people I meet now make me sick.
Haley: What types of people do you find especially irritating?
Davis: Well, these people that’s always coming up bugging me until they get me to act like this crap they heard. They ask you things, you say what you think, and if it ain’t what they want to hear, then something’s wrong with you and they go away mad and think you don’t like them. I bet I have had that happen 500 times. In this last club I played, this newspaper reporter kept after me when I told him I didn’t have no more to say. He wasn’t satisfied with that. After the next set, he come up again, either drunk or playing drunk, and shoved into me. I told him to get the hell out of my way, and then he was fine—he went right out and wrote that. But he didn’t tell how it happened.
And I’m mad every time I run into the Jim Crow scene, I don’t care what form it takes. You can’t hardly play anywhere you don’t run into some of these cats full of prejudice. I don’t know how many I’ve told, “Look, you want me to talk to you and you’re prejudiced against me and all that. Why’n’t you go on back where you’re sitting and be prejudiced by yourself and leave me alone?” I have enough problems without trying to make them feel better. Then they go off and join the rest saying I’m such a big bastard.
I’ve got no plans of changing what I think. I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. The average jazz musician today, if he’s making it, is just as trained as classical musicians. You ever see anybody go up bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?
Even in jazz—you look at the white bandleaders—if they don’t want anybody messing with them when they are working, you don’t hear anybody squawking. It’s just if a Negro is involved that there’s something wrong with him. My troubles started when I learned to play the trumpet and hadn’t learned to dance.
Haley: You feel that the complaints about you are because of your race?
Davis: I know damn well a lot of it is race. White people have certain things they expect from Negro musicians—just like they’ve got labels for the whole Negro race. It goes clear back to the slavery days. That was when Uncle Tomming got started because white people demanded it. Every little black child grew up seeing that getting along with white people meant grinning and acting clowns. It helped white people to feel easy about what they had done, and were doing, to Negroes, and that’s carried right on over to now. You bring it down to musicians, they want you to not only play your instrument, but to entertain them, too, with grinning and dancing.
Haley: Generally speaking, what are your feelings with regard to race?
Davis: I hate to talk about what I think of the mess because my friends are all colors. When I say that some of my best friends are white, I sure ain’t lying. The only white people I don’t like are the prejudiced white people. Those the shoe don’t fit, well, they don’t wear it. I don’t like the white people that show me they can’t understand that not just the Negroes, but the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and any other races that ain’t white, should be given dignity and respect like everybody else.
But let me straighten you—I ain’t saying I think all Negroes are the salt of the earth. It’s plenty of Negroes I can’t stand, too. Especially those that act like they think white people want them to. They bug me worse than Uncle Toms.
But prejudiced white people can’t see any of the other races as just individual people. If a white man robs a bank, it’s just a man robbed a bank. But if a Negro or a Puerto Rican does it, it’s them awful Negroes or Puerto Ricans. Hardly anybody not white hasn’t suffered from some of white people’s labels. It used to be said that all Negroes were shiftless and happy-go-lucky and lazy. But that’s been proved a lie so much that now the label is that what Negroes want integration for is so they can sleep in the bed with white people. It’s another damn lie. All Negroes want is to be free to do in this country just like anybody else. Prejudiced white people ask one another, “Would you want your sister to marry a Negro?” It’s a jive question to ask in the first place—as if white women stand around helpless if some Negro wants to drag one off to a preacher. It makes me sick to hear that. A Negro just might not want your sister. The Negro is always to blame if some white woman
decides she wants him. But it’s all right that ever since slavery, white men been having Negro women. Every Negro you see that ain’t black, that’s what’s happened somewhere in his background. The slaves they brought here were all black.
What makes me mad about these labels for Negroes is that very few white people really know what Negroes really feel like. A lot of white people have never even been in the company of an intelligent Negro. But you can hardly meet a white person, especially a white man, that don’t think he’s qualified to tell you all about Negroes.
You know the story the minute you meet some white cat and he comes off with a big show that he’s with you. It’s 10,000 things you can talk about, but the only thing he can think of is some other Negro he’s such close friends with. Intelligent Negroes are sick of hearing this. I don’t know how many times different whites have started talking, telling me they was raised up with a Negro boy. But I ain’t found one yet that knows whatever happened to that boy after they grew up.
Haley: Did you grow up with any white boys?
Davis: I didn’t grow up with any, not as friends, to speak of. But I went to school with some. In high school, I was the best in the music class on the trumpet. I knew it and all the rest knew it—but all the contest first prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. It made me so mad I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn. If I hadn’t met that prejudice, I probably wouldn’t have had as much drive in my work. I have thought about that a lot. I have thought that prejudice and curiosity have been responsible for what I have done in music.
Haley: What was the role of the curiosity?
Davis: I mean I always had a curiosity about trying new things in music. A new sound, another way to do something—things like that. But man, look, you know one of the biggest things that needs straightening up? The whole communication system of this country! Take the movies and TV. How many times do you see anybody in the films but white people? You don’t dig? Look, the next movie or TV you see, you count how many Negroes or any other race but white that you see. But you walk around in any city, you see the other races—I mean, in life they are part of the scene. But in the films supposed to represent this country, they ain’t there. You won’t hardly even see any in the street crowd scenes—because the studios didn’t bother to hire any as extras.
Negroes used to be servants and Uncle Toms in the movies. But so much stink was raised until they quit that. Now you do have some Negroes playing feature parts—maybe four or five a year. Most of the time, they have a role that’s special so it won’t offend nobody—then it’s a big production made like that picture is going to prove our democracy. Look, I ain’t saying that people making films are prejudiced. I can’t say what I don’t know. But I see the films they make, and I know they don’t think about the trouble a lot of colored people find with the movies and TV.
A big TV network wanted to do a show featuring me. I said no, and they asked me to just look at a show featuring a big-name Negro singer. No, I ain’t calling no names. Well, just like I knew, they had 18 girls dancing for the background—and every one of them was white. Later on, when I pointed this out to the TV people, they were shocked. They said they just hadn’t thought about that. I said I knew they hadn’t. Nobody seems to think much about the colored people and the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and Japanese that watch TV and buy the things they advertise. All these races want to see some of their own people represented in the shows—I mean, besides the big stars. I know I’d feel better to see some kids of all races dancing and acting on shows than I would feel about myself up there playing a horn. The only thing that makes me any different from them is I was lucky.
This black-white business is ticklish to try to explain. You don’t want to see Negroes every time you click on your set. That would be just as bad as now when you don’t see nobody but white people. But if movies and TV are supposed to reflect this country, and this country’s supposed to be democratic, then why don’t they do it? Let’s see all kinds of people dancing and acting. I see all kinds of kids downtown at the schools of dancing and acting, but from what I see in the movies and TV, it’s just the white ones that are getting any work.
Look, man, right in music you got the same thing happening. I got this album,Someday My Prince Will Come, and you know who’s on the jacket cover? My wife—Frances. I just got to thinking that as many record albums as Negroes buy, I hadn’t ever seen a Negro girl on a major album cover unless she was the artist. There wasn’t any harm meant—they just automatically thought about a white model and ordered one. It was my album and I’m Frances’ prince, so I suggested they use her for a model, and they did it.
But it ain’t all cases where white people just didn’t think about the other races. It’s a lot of intended discrimination, right in music. You got plenty of places that either won’t hire Negroes, or they hire just one that they point out. The network studios, the Broadway pit bands, the classical orchestras, the film studios, they all have color discrimination in hiring.
I tell you why I feel so strong about the communication system. I never have forgotten one time in Europe this nice old man told me how in World War II, the Europeans didn’t know what to make of Negro troops. They had their picture of this country from our magazines and movies, and with a very few exceptions like Pops Armstrong and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens, they didn’t know about any Negroes except servants and laborers.
Haley: Do you feel that your views are shared by most Negroes? And Puerto Ricans? And Orientals?
Davis: I can’t speak for them last two. I’m in no position, I just know what I personally feel for them. But I know that pretty nearly all Negroes hardly have any other choice about how they feel. They ain’t blind. They got to see what’s happening. It’s a thousand big and little ways that you run into the prejudices of white people. Just one thing—how long have Negroes been looking at immigrants coming into this country and can’t even speak the language, and in the second generations, they are in places the Negroes haven’t got to yet.
Look, not long ago this big magazine had this Southern truck driver saying he’d carry sandwiches if they let Negroes eat in them Maryland highway restaurants. But where he wants to eat ain’t my point—I’m talking about what he said. He said, “You give them a finger, they take an arm” and a lot more. You dig? When it comes to human rights, these prejudiced white people keep on acting like they own the damn franchise! And, man, with the world in the mess it’s in now, we trying to influence on our side all them Africans and Arabs and Indians and Chinese . . . You know two thirds of the people in the world ain’t white? They see all this crap with Negroes and supposed to feel white people really think any different about them? Man, somebody better get straight!
Another thing—there was no upset about them restaurants not serving Negroes, until it was an African they turned away. You think every Negro in the country don’t see what it says? It says that we been here 400 years, but it wasn’t no mess until they put out an African that just flew over here on a jet.
Haley: Do you, in your position as a famous Negro, meet prejudice?
Davis: I told you, someway or other, every Negro meets it, I don’t care who he is! Look, man, I sent for an electrician to fix something in the house. When he rang the bell, I answered and he looked at me like I was dirt, and said, “I want to see the owner, Mr. Davis.” When I said, “You looking at him,” the cat turned beet red. He had me figured as the porter. Now he’s mad and embarrassed. What had I done to him but called to give him work?
That same week, I had seen a lot of them West Point cadets, and in a bar I asked why there was so many of them in town. Man, I just asked the cat a question and he moved up the bar and didn’t speak! But then somebody recognized me and he got red as that electrician. He came trying to apologize and saying he had my records. I told him I had just paid enough taxes to cover his free ride at West Point, and I walked out. I guess he’s somewhere now with the others saying I’m such a bastard. It bugged me so, man, I wasn’t worth a damn for two or three days. It wasn’t just him ignoring me I was thinking about, but in two or three years, Gregory, my oldest boy, may be doing some Army time. How am I supposed to feel about him maybe serving under this cat?
Then take this tour I made—Frances and I had train reservations to California. But this clerk I showed my identification to, he took it and looked at me just like the West Point cat. When he said he had to check with somebody else, I asked him what was the trouble. You know he had the nerve to tell me I might have forged it! Ain’t no need of me telling you what I told him, nobody would print it. But we went to the airport and took a plane. I’m spending my money, the railroads are broke, even this son of a bitch’s job’s in trouble, but all he can see is I’m black, so it’s all right to insult me. Bad as I hate to fly, I ain’t been on a train since, because I haven’t met Jim Crow on the airlines.
Haley: In your field, music, don’t some Negro jazzmen discriminate against white musicians?
Davis: Crow Jim is what they call that. Yeah. It’s a lot of the Negro musicians mad because most of the best-paying jobs go to the white musicians playing what the Negroes created. But I don’t go for this, because I think prejudice one way is just as bad as the other way. I wouldn’t have no other arranger but Gil Evans—we couldn’t be much closer if he was my brother. And I remember one time when I hired Lee Konitz, some colored cats bitched a lot about me hiring an ofay in my band when Negroes didn’t have work. I said if a cat could play like Lee, I would hire him, I didn’t give a damn if he was green and had red breath.
Haley: Do you find that being the head of your band adds to your problems?
Davis: Fronting a band ain’t no fun. A lot of people don’t understand that music is business, it’s hard work and a big responsibility. I hate to even think what all I’ve been through to play my horn, and still go through. I put everything I’ve got into it. Even after a good rehearsal, I feel empty. And you add to playing your instrument the running of a band and you got plenty of problems. I got my own family, and the guys that work for me, and their families to think about. On one tour, I had this white woman in Kansas City meet me when I came off the stand and wanted me to come to her table with her and her husband for a drink. I told her I didn’t like to do that, and she hollered, “They said you’re like that!” I felt like throwing down my horn and kicking it. But I said to myself I was going to try and educate at least that one couple. So I went over and talked to them.
I told them an artist’s first responsibility was to himself. I said if he kept getting upset with what other people think he ought to do, he never would get too far, or he sure wouldn’t last. I tried to make them see how I had worked all my life to play myself and then to get a band worth people paying to hear. I said that a lot of times when people in a club wanted to talk to me, I needed to be worrying about something about my band. They said they understood. I hope they did.
Haley: You have been quoted as not being in favor of jazz concerts. Why?
Davis: Nobody can relax at concerts, the musicians or the people, either. You can’t do nothing but sit down, you can’t move around, you can’t have a drink. A musician has to be able to let loose everything in him to reach the people. If the musician can’t relax, how’s he going to make the people feel what he feels? The whole scene of jazz is feeling.
Haley: Do you now ever indulge in jam sessions?
Davis: I wish there was some jam sessions to sit in. But there ain’t none left—at least not in the big cities. I used to sit in some great ones around St. Louis and in Brooklyn, Illinois. We would blow sometimes clear up until the next afternoon. When I go back there now, I sit in with a little blues band. They have the feeling.
Haley: You’ve won all the trumpet polls. After yourself, how would you rank others?
Davis: After me! Hell, it’s plenty great trumpet players don’t come after me, or afternobody else! That’s what I hate so about critics—how they are always comparingartists . . . always writing that one’s better than another one. Ten men can have spent all their lives learning technical expertness on their instruments, but just like in any art, one will play one style and the rest nine other ways. And if some critics just don’t happen to like a man’s style, they will knock the artist. That bugs the hell out of musicians. It’s made some damn near mad enough to want to hang up their horns.
Trumpet players, like anybody else, are individualized by their different ideas and styles. The thing to judge in any jazz artist is does the man project, and does he have ideas. You take Dizzy—he does, all the time, every time he picks up his horn. Some more cats—Clark Terry, Ray Nance, Kenny Dorham, Roy Eldridge, Harold Baker, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hackett—a lot of them. Hell, that cat down in New Orleans, Al Hirt, he blows his ass off, too!
Haley: Is there any special reason you didn’t mention Louis Armstrong?
Davis: Oh, Pops? No, why I didn’t mention him is because I was talking just about modern-jazz players. I love Pops, I love the way he sings, the way he plays—everything he does, except when he says something against modern-jazz music. He ought to realize that he was a pioneer, too. No, he wasn’t an influence of mine, and I’ve had very little direct contact with Pops. A long time ago, I was at Bop City, and he came in and told me he liked my playing. I don’t know if he would even remember it, but I remember how good I felt to have him say it. People really dig Pops like I do myself. He does a good job overseas with his personality. But they ought to send him down South for goodwill. They need goodwill worse in Georgia and Alabama and Mississippi than they do in Europe.
Haley: To go back a moment, you expressed a sharp dislike of critics. Are there other reasons besides their comparing musicians?
Davis: Well, aside from that, I get sick of how a lot of them write whole columns and pages of big words and still ain’t saying nothing. If you have spent your life getting to know your business and the other cats in it, and what they are doing, then you know if a critic knows what he’s talking about. Most of the time they don’t.
I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself. My music has got to get past me and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.
No, I ain’t going to name critics I don’t like. But I will tell you some that I respect what they write—Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason and Leonard Feather. And some others, I can’t right off think of their names. But it ain’t a long list.
Haley: Are there any particular places or clubs that you don’t like to play?
Davis: There are plenty I won’t play! I won’t take a booking nowhere in the South. I told you I just can’t stand Jim Crow, so I ain’t going down there in it. There’s enough of it here in the North, but at least you have the support of some laws.
I won’t play nowhere I know has the kind of audiences that you waste your breath to play for. I’m talking about them expense-account ofays that use music as a background for getting high and trying to show off to the women they brought. They ain’t come to hear good music. They don’t even know how to enjoy themselves. They drink too much, they get loud, they got to be seen and heard. They’ll jump up and dance jigs and sing. They ain’t got no manners—don’t pay their women no respect. What they really want is some Uncle Tom entertainment if it’s a Negro group on the stand. These are the kind will holler, “Hey, boy, play Sweet Georgia Brown!” You supposed to grin and play that. I hate to play in a place full of those kind of squares so bad that if there wasn’t nobody else to play to, I’d invest in some more property and just stay home and collect rents. I can’t stand dumb-ass people not respecting the other customers that have come to hear the music. Sometimes one table like that
has bugged me so that when I get home or to my hotel, I walk the floor because I can’t sleep.
I told you I ain’t going to play nowhere in the South that Negroes can’t come. But I ain’t going to play nowhere in the North that Negroes don’t come. It’s one of two reasons they won’t, either because they know they ain’t wanted, or because they don’t like the joint’s regular run of music. Negroes ain’t got as much money to throw away in night clubs as white people. So a club that Negroes patronize, you can figure that everybody that goes there comes expecting to hear good music.
Haley: What is your opinion of the jazz audiences in Europe?
Davis: European audiences are generally more hip about the background of jazz than most of the fans here. Some cats hardly heard of here are big record sellers in Europe. In this country, it’s more following of personalities. You want to hear something funny? One club-owner friend of mine said a lot of people pay their money to come where I’m playing just because they want to see me—they heard I’m so bad. Ain’t that a bitch?
But this country has a lot of great fans. You know, they appreciate what you’re trying to do, and that inspires a musician to give his best. I know some Americans that don’t stop with just knowing jazz, but that even think just like musicians.
Haley: Do you plan another European tour soon?
Davis: Maybe. I like to play in Europe every now and then, but I don’t like to spend no more time out of this house than I can help. Jack Whittemore, my booking agent at Shaw Artists, schedules me so I don’t stay long on the road. I like to have time at home to be with my kids and Frances, and to just think about things—like worrying about the people running this Government maybe slipping and getting us into another war. But I like them Kennedy brothers—they’re swinging people.
Haley: Would it please you if the image of you changed, that people quit regarding you as a tough guy?
Davis: Well, nobody wants to be always accused of something he ain’t done. But people that want to think that, it’s their worry, it ain’t mine. I’m like I am, and I ain’t planning to change. I ain’t scared of nothing or nobody, I already been through too much. I ought to be dead from just what I went through when I was on dope. I ain’t going around anywhere trying to be tough and a racist. I just say what I think, and that bugs people, especially a lot of white people. When they look in my eyes and don’t see no fear, they know it’s a draw.
Haley: Have you always been so sensitive about being a Negro?
Davis: About the first thing I can remember as a little boy was a white man running me down a street hollering “Nigger! Nigger!” My father went hunting him with a shotgun. Being sensitive and having race pride has been in my family since slave days. The slave Davises played classical string music on the plantations. My father, Miles the first, was born six years after the Emancipation. He wanted to play music, but my grandfather wanted him to be more than an entertainer for white folks. He made him go to Northwestern to be a dental surgeon. My father is worth more than I am. He’s a high-priced dental surgeon with more practice than he can handle—because he’s good at his business—and he raises hogs with pedigrees. It’s a special breed of hogs with some funny name I would tell you, but I never can remember it.
Haley: You’re said to be one of the financially best-off popular musicians. Is this correct?
Davis: Well, I don’t have any access to other musicians’ bankbooks. But I never have been what you would call poor. I grew up with an allowance, and I had a big newspaper route. I saved most of what I made except for buying records. But when I first left home as a musician, I used to spend all I made, and when I went on dope, I got in debt. But after I got enough sense to kick the habit, I started to make more than I needed to spend unless I was crazy or something.
Now I got a pretty good portfolio of stock investments, and I got this house—it’s worth into six figures, including everything in it. My four kids are coming up fine. When the boys get in from school, I want you to see them working out on the bags in our gym downstairs. I keep myself in shape and teach the kids how to box. They can handle themselves. Ain’t nothing better that a father can pass along.
Then I got my music, I got Frances, and my Ferrari—and our friends. I got everything a man could want—if it just wasn’t for this prejudice crap. It ain’t that I’m mad at white people, I just see what I see and I know what’s happening. I am going to speak my mind about anything that drags me about this Jim Crow scene. This whole prejudice mess is something you would feel so good if it could just be got rid of, like a big sore eating inside of your belly.
(The above interview by Alex Haley is presented to our audience under the Creative Commons License (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_creative_commons_license_usage.htm) . It was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy. © 1962 Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. © 1993 by Ballantine Books. All Rights Reserved.)
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Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (1962)
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** Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast)
————————————————————
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis
(The below Miles Davis interview by Alex Haley was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy Magazine. It was also published in Alex Haley: The Playboy Interviews by Ballantine Books in July 1993.)
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (September 1962)
In mid-1962, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner was given a partial transcript of an interview with jazz legend Miles Davis. It covered jazz, of course, but it also included Davis’s ruminations on race, politics and culture.
Fascinated, Hef sent the writer—future Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alex Haley (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_biography.htm) , an unknown at the time—back to glean even more opinion and insight from Davis.
The resulting exchange, published in the September 1962 issue, became the first official Playboy Interview and kicked off a remarkable run of public inquisition that continues today—and that has featured just about ever cultural titan of the last half century.
In the interview with Alex Haley, Davis candidly spoke about his thoughts and feelings on racism and it was that interview that set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine.
Here is a quote from Miles Davis: “Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.”
To celebrate the Interview’s 50th anniversary in 2012, the editors of Playboy have culled 50 of its most (in)famous Interviews and published them over the course of 50 weekdays (from September 4, 2012 to November 12, 2012) via Amazon’s Kindle Direct platform. Here is that first Interview with Miles Davis.
A Candid Conversation With The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast
“I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got is myself . . . and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.”
“In high school I was best in music class on the trumpet, but the prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn.”
“I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. You ever see anybody bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?”
The technical and emotional brilliance of the trumpet played by Miles Davis has made him one of the most provocative influences in modern jazz. We spent two days with Miles not long ago in his rather unusual five-story home, a converted Russian Orthodox Church on West 77th Street near the Hudson River in New York City. Miles was between gigs at the time and we accompanied him on his restless daily home routine, asking questions at propitious moments while he worked out in his basement gymnasium, made veal chops Italian style for his family, took telephone calls from fellow musicians, his lawyer and stockbroker, gave boxing lessons to his three sons, watched TV, plucked out beginner’s chords on a guitar and, of course, blew one of his two Martin trumpets, running up and down the chromatic scale with searing speed.
Spending time with Miles in the refuge of his own home, and seeing him surrounded by the activities and people he loves, it was hard to reconcile this reality with his sometimes flinty and truculent public posture. It was on this facet of his personality that we first queried him.
Haley: Linked with your musical renown is your reputation for bad temper and rudeness to your audiences. Would you comment?
Davis: Why is it that people just have to have so much to say about me? It bugs me because I’m not that important. Some critic that didn’t have nothing else to do started this crap about I don’t announce numbers, I don’t look at the audience, I don’t bow or talk to people, I walk off the stage, and all that.
Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.
The reason I don’t announce numbers is because it’s not until the last instant I decide what’s maybe the best thing to play next. Besides, if people don’t recognize a number when we play it, what difference does it make?
Why I sometimes walk off the stand is because when it’s somebody else’s turn to solo, I ain’t going to just stand up there and be detracting from him. What am I going to stand up there for? I ain’t no model, and I don’t sing or dance, and I damn sure ain’t no Uncle Tom just to be up there grinning. Sometimes I go over by the piano or the drums and listen to what they’re doing. But if I don’t want to do that, I go in the wings and listen to the whole band until it’s the next turn for my horn.
Then they claim I ignore the audience while I’m playing. Man, when I’m working, I know the people are out there. But when I’m playing, I’m worrying about making my horn sound right.
And they bitch that I won’t talk to people when we go off after a set. That’s a damn lie. I talk plenty of times if everything’s going like it ought to and I feel right. But if I got my mind on something about my band or something else, well, hell, no, I don’t want to talk. When I’m working I’m concentrating. I bet you if I was a doctor sewing on some son of a bitch’s heart, they wouldn’t want me to talk.
Anybody wants to believe all this crap they hear about me, it’s their problem, not mine. Because, look, man, I like people. I love people! I’m not going around telling everybody that. I try to say that my way—with my horn. Look, when I was a boy, 10 years old, I got a paper route and it got bigger than I could handle because my customers liked me so much. I just delivered papers the best I could and minded my business, the same way I play my horn now. But a lot of the people I meet now make me sick.
Haley: What types of people do you find especially irritating?
Davis: Well, these people that’s always coming up bugging me until they get me to act like this crap they heard. They ask you things, you say what you think, and if it ain’t what they want to hear, then something’s wrong with you and they go away mad and think you don’t like them. I bet I have had that happen 500 times. In this last club I played, this newspaper reporter kept after me when I told him I didn’t have no more to say. He wasn’t satisfied with that. After the next set, he come up again, either drunk or playing drunk, and shoved into me. I told him to get the hell out of my way, and then he was fine—he went right out and wrote that. But he didn’t tell how it happened.
And I’m mad every time I run into the Jim Crow scene, I don’t care what form it takes. You can’t hardly play anywhere you don’t run into some of these cats full of prejudice. I don’t know how many I’ve told, “Look, you want me to talk to you and you’re prejudiced against me and all that. Why’n’t you go on back where you’re sitting and be prejudiced by yourself and leave me alone?” I have enough problems without trying to make them feel better. Then they go off and join the rest saying I’m such a big bastard.
I’ve got no plans of changing what I think. I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. The average jazz musician today, if he’s making it, is just as trained as classical musicians. You ever see anybody go up bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?
Even in jazz—you look at the white bandleaders—if they don’t want anybody messing with them when they are working, you don’t hear anybody squawking. It’s just if a Negro is involved that there’s something wrong with him. My troubles started when I learned to play the trumpet and hadn’t learned to dance.
Haley: You feel that the complaints about you are because of your race?
Davis: I know damn well a lot of it is race. White people have certain things they expect from Negro musicians—just like they’ve got labels for the whole Negro race. It goes clear back to the slavery days. That was when Uncle Tomming got started because white people demanded it. Every little black child grew up seeing that getting along with white people meant grinning and acting clowns. It helped white people to feel easy about what they had done, and were doing, to Negroes, and that’s carried right on over to now. You bring it down to musicians, they want you to not only play your instrument, but to entertain them, too, with grinning and dancing.
Haley: Generally speaking, what are your feelings with regard to race?
Davis: I hate to talk about what I think of the mess because my friends are all colors. When I say that some of my best friends are white, I sure ain’t lying. The only white people I don’t like are the prejudiced white people. Those the shoe don’t fit, well, they don’t wear it. I don’t like the white people that show me they can’t understand that not just the Negroes, but the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and any other races that ain’t white, should be given dignity and respect like everybody else.
But let me straighten you—I ain’t saying I think all Negroes are the salt of the earth. It’s plenty of Negroes I can’t stand, too. Especially those that act like they think white people want them to. They bug me worse than Uncle Toms.
But prejudiced white people can’t see any of the other races as just individual people. If a white man robs a bank, it’s just a man robbed a bank. But if a Negro or a Puerto Rican does it, it’s them awful Negroes or Puerto Ricans. Hardly anybody not white hasn’t suffered from some of white people’s labels. It used to be said that all Negroes were shiftless and happy-go-lucky and lazy. But that’s been proved a lie so much that now the label is that what Negroes want integration for is so they can sleep in the bed with white people. It’s another damn lie. All Negroes want is to be free to do in this country just like anybody else. Prejudiced white people ask one another, “Would you want your sister to marry a Negro?” It’s a jive question to ask in the first place—as if white women stand around helpless if some Negro wants to drag one off to a preacher. It makes me sick to hear that. A Negro just might not want your sister. The Negro is always to blame if some white woman
decides she wants him. But it’s all right that ever since slavery, white men been having Negro women. Every Negro you see that ain’t black, that’s what’s happened somewhere in his background. The slaves they brought here were all black.
What makes me mad about these labels for Negroes is that very few white people really know what Negroes really feel like. A lot of white people have never even been in the company of an intelligent Negro. But you can hardly meet a white person, especially a white man, that don’t think he’s qualified to tell you all about Negroes.
You know the story the minute you meet some white cat and he comes off with a big show that he’s with you. It’s 10,000 things you can talk about, but the only thing he can think of is some other Negro he’s such close friends with. Intelligent Negroes are sick of hearing this. I don’t know how many times different whites have started talking, telling me they was raised up with a Negro boy. But I ain’t found one yet that knows whatever happened to that boy after they grew up.
Haley: Did you grow up with any white boys?
Davis: I didn’t grow up with any, not as friends, to speak of. But I went to school with some. In high school, I was the best in the music class on the trumpet. I knew it and all the rest knew it—but all the contest first prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. It made me so mad I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn. If I hadn’t met that prejudice, I probably wouldn’t have had as much drive in my work. I have thought about that a lot. I have thought that prejudice and curiosity have been responsible for what I have done in music.
Haley: What was the role of the curiosity?
Davis: I mean I always had a curiosity about trying new things in music. A new sound, another way to do something—things like that. But man, look, you know one of the biggest things that needs straightening up? The whole communication system of this country! Take the movies and TV. How many times do you see anybody in the films but white people? You don’t dig? Look, the next movie or TV you see, you count how many Negroes or any other race but white that you see. But you walk around in any city, you see the other races—I mean, in life they are part of the scene. But in the films supposed to represent this country, they ain’t there. You won’t hardly even see any in the street crowd scenes—because the studios didn’t bother to hire any as extras.
Negroes used to be servants and Uncle Toms in the movies. But so much stink was raised until they quit that. Now you do have some Negroes playing feature parts—maybe four or five a year. Most of the time, they have a role that’s special so it won’t offend nobody—then it’s a big production made like that picture is going to prove our democracy. Look, I ain’t saying that people making films are prejudiced. I can’t say what I don’t know. But I see the films they make, and I know they don’t think about the trouble a lot of colored people find with the movies and TV.
A big TV network wanted to do a show featuring me. I said no, and they asked me to just look at a show featuring a big-name Negro singer. No, I ain’t calling no names. Well, just like I knew, they had 18 girls dancing for the background—and every one of them was white. Later on, when I pointed this out to the TV people, they were shocked. They said they just hadn’t thought about that. I said I knew they hadn’t. Nobody seems to think much about the colored people and the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and Japanese that watch TV and buy the things they advertise. All these races want to see some of their own people represented in the shows—I mean, besides the big stars. I know I’d feel better to see some kids of all races dancing and acting on shows than I would feel about myself up there playing a horn. The only thing that makes me any different from them is I was lucky.
This black-white business is ticklish to try to explain. You don’t want to see Negroes every time you click on your set. That would be just as bad as now when you don’t see nobody but white people. But if movies and TV are supposed to reflect this country, and this country’s supposed to be democratic, then why don’t they do it? Let’s see all kinds of people dancing and acting. I see all kinds of kids downtown at the schools of dancing and acting, but from what I see in the movies and TV, it’s just the white ones that are getting any work.
Look, man, right in music you got the same thing happening. I got this album,Someday My Prince Will Come, and you know who’s on the jacket cover? My wife—Frances. I just got to thinking that as many record albums as Negroes buy, I hadn’t ever seen a Negro girl on a major album cover unless she was the artist. There wasn’t any harm meant—they just automatically thought about a white model and ordered one. It was my album and I’m Frances’ prince, so I suggested they use her for a model, and they did it.
But it ain’t all cases where white people just didn’t think about the other races. It’s a lot of intended discrimination, right in music. You got plenty of places that either won’t hire Negroes, or they hire just one that they point out. The network studios, the Broadway pit bands, the classical orchestras, the film studios, they all have color discrimination in hiring.
I tell you why I feel so strong about the communication system. I never have forgotten one time in Europe this nice old man told me how in World War II, the Europeans didn’t know what to make of Negro troops. They had their picture of this country from our magazines and movies, and with a very few exceptions like Pops Armstrong and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens, they didn’t know about any Negroes except servants and laborers.
Haley: Do you feel that your views are shared by most Negroes? And Puerto Ricans? And Orientals?
Davis: I can’t speak for them last two. I’m in no position, I just know what I personally feel for them. But I know that pretty nearly all Negroes hardly have any other choice about how they feel. They ain’t blind. They got to see what’s happening. It’s a thousand big and little ways that you run into the prejudices of white people. Just one thing—how long have Negroes been looking at immigrants coming into this country and can’t even speak the language, and in the second generations, they are in places the Negroes haven’t got to yet.
Look, not long ago this big magazine had this Southern truck driver saying he’d carry sandwiches if they let Negroes eat in them Maryland highway restaurants. But where he wants to eat ain’t my point—I’m talking about what he said. He said, “You give them a finger, they take an arm” and a lot more. You dig? When it comes to human rights, these prejudiced white people keep on acting like they own the damn franchise! And, man, with the world in the mess it’s in now, we trying to influence on our side all them Africans and Arabs and Indians and Chinese . . . You know two thirds of the people in the world ain’t white? They see all this crap with Negroes and supposed to feel white people really think any different about them? Man, somebody better get straight!
Another thing—there was no upset about them restaurants not serving Negroes, until it was an African they turned away. You think every Negro in the country don’t see what it says? It says that we been here 400 years, but it wasn’t no mess until they put out an African that just flew over here on a jet.
Haley: Do you, in your position as a famous Negro, meet prejudice?
Davis: I told you, someway or other, every Negro meets it, I don’t care who he is! Look, man, I sent for an electrician to fix something in the house. When he rang the bell, I answered and he looked at me like I was dirt, and said, “I want to see the owner, Mr. Davis.” When I said, “You looking at him,” the cat turned beet red. He had me figured as the porter. Now he’s mad and embarrassed. What had I done to him but called to give him work?
That same week, I had seen a lot of them West Point cadets, and in a bar I asked why there was so many of them in town. Man, I just asked the cat a question and he moved up the bar and didn’t speak! But then somebody recognized me and he got red as that electrician. He came trying to apologize and saying he had my records. I told him I had just paid enough taxes to cover his free ride at West Point, and I walked out. I guess he’s somewhere now with the others saying I’m such a bastard. It bugged me so, man, I wasn’t worth a damn for two or three days. It wasn’t just him ignoring me I was thinking about, but in two or three years, Gregory, my oldest boy, may be doing some Army time. How am I supposed to feel about him maybe serving under this cat?
Then take this tour I made—Frances and I had train reservations to California. But this clerk I showed my identification to, he took it and looked at me just like the West Point cat. When he said he had to check with somebody else, I asked him what was the trouble. You know he had the nerve to tell me I might have forged it! Ain’t no need of me telling you what I told him, nobody would print it. But we went to the airport and took a plane. I’m spending my money, the railroads are broke, even this son of a bitch’s job’s in trouble, but all he can see is I’m black, so it’s all right to insult me. Bad as I hate to fly, I ain’t been on a train since, because I haven’t met Jim Crow on the airlines.
Haley: In your field, music, don’t some Negro jazzmen discriminate against white musicians?
Davis: Crow Jim is what they call that. Yeah. It’s a lot of the Negro musicians mad because most of the best-paying jobs go to the white musicians playing what the Negroes created. But I don’t go for this, because I think prejudice one way is just as bad as the other way. I wouldn’t have no other arranger but Gil Evans—we couldn’t be much closer if he was my brother. And I remember one time when I hired Lee Konitz, some colored cats bitched a lot about me hiring an ofay in my band when Negroes didn’t have work. I said if a cat could play like Lee, I would hire him, I didn’t give a damn if he was green and had red breath.
Haley: Do you find that being the head of your band adds to your problems?
Davis: Fronting a band ain’t no fun. A lot of people don’t understand that music is business, it’s hard work and a big responsibility. I hate to even think what all I’ve been through to play my horn, and still go through. I put everything I’ve got into it. Even after a good rehearsal, I feel empty. And you add to playing your instrument the running of a band and you got plenty of problems. I got my own family, and the guys that work for me, and their families to think about. On one tour, I had this white woman in Kansas City meet me when I came off the stand and wanted me to come to her table with her and her husband for a drink. I told her I didn’t like to do that, and she hollered, “They said you’re like that!” I felt like throwing down my horn and kicking it. But I said to myself I was going to try and educate at least that one couple. So I went over and talked to them.
I told them an artist’s first responsibility was to himself. I said if he kept getting upset with what other people think he ought to do, he never would get too far, or he sure wouldn’t last. I tried to make them see how I had worked all my life to play myself and then to get a band worth people paying to hear. I said that a lot of times when people in a club wanted to talk to me, I needed to be worrying about something about my band. They said they understood. I hope they did.
Haley: You have been quoted as not being in favor of jazz concerts. Why?
Davis: Nobody can relax at concerts, the musicians or the people, either. You can’t do nothing but sit down, you can’t move around, you can’t have a drink. A musician has to be able to let loose everything in him to reach the people. If the musician can’t relax, how’s he going to make the people feel what he feels? The whole scene of jazz is feeling.
Haley: Do you now ever indulge in jam sessions?
Davis: I wish there was some jam sessions to sit in. But there ain’t none left—at least not in the big cities. I used to sit in some great ones around St. Louis and in Brooklyn, Illinois. We would blow sometimes clear up until the next afternoon. When I go back there now, I sit in with a little blues band. They have the feeling.
Haley: You’ve won all the trumpet polls. After yourself, how would you rank others?
Davis: After me! Hell, it’s plenty great trumpet players don’t come after me, or afternobody else! That’s what I hate so about critics—how they are always comparingartists . . . always writing that one’s better than another one. Ten men can have spent all their lives learning technical expertness on their instruments, but just like in any art, one will play one style and the rest nine other ways. And if some critics just don’t happen to like a man’s style, they will knock the artist. That bugs the hell out of musicians. It’s made some damn near mad enough to want to hang up their horns.
Trumpet players, like anybody else, are individualized by their different ideas and styles. The thing to judge in any jazz artist is does the man project, and does he have ideas. You take Dizzy—he does, all the time, every time he picks up his horn. Some more cats—Clark Terry, Ray Nance, Kenny Dorham, Roy Eldridge, Harold Baker, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hackett—a lot of them. Hell, that cat down in New Orleans, Al Hirt, he blows his ass off, too!
Haley: Is there any special reason you didn’t mention Louis Armstrong?
Davis: Oh, Pops? No, why I didn’t mention him is because I was talking just about modern-jazz players. I love Pops, I love the way he sings, the way he plays—everything he does, except when he says something against modern-jazz music. He ought to realize that he was a pioneer, too. No, he wasn’t an influence of mine, and I’ve had very little direct contact with Pops. A long time ago, I was at Bop City, and he came in and told me he liked my playing. I don’t know if he would even remember it, but I remember how good I felt to have him say it. People really dig Pops like I do myself. He does a good job overseas with his personality. But they ought to send him down South for goodwill. They need goodwill worse in Georgia and Alabama and Mississippi than they do in Europe.
Haley: To go back a moment, you expressed a sharp dislike of critics. Are there other reasons besides their comparing musicians?
Davis: Well, aside from that, I get sick of how a lot of them write whole columns and pages of big words and still ain’t saying nothing. If you have spent your life getting to know your business and the other cats in it, and what they are doing, then you know if a critic knows what he’s talking about. Most of the time they don’t.
I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself. My music has got to get past me and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.
No, I ain’t going to name critics I don’t like. But I will tell you some that I respect what they write—Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason and Leonard Feather. And some others, I can’t right off think of their names. But it ain’t a long list.
Haley: Are there any particular places or clubs that you don’t like to play?
Davis: There are plenty I won’t play! I won’t take a booking nowhere in the South. I told you I just can’t stand Jim Crow, so I ain’t going down there in it. There’s enough of it here in the North, but at least you have the support of some laws.
I won’t play nowhere I know has the kind of audiences that you waste your breath to play for. I’m talking about them expense-account ofays that use music as a background for getting high and trying to show off to the women they brought. They ain’t come to hear good music. They don’t even know how to enjoy themselves. They drink too much, they get loud, they got to be seen and heard. They’ll jump up and dance jigs and sing. They ain’t got no manners—don’t pay their women no respect. What they really want is some Uncle Tom entertainment if it’s a Negro group on the stand. These are the kind will holler, “Hey, boy, play Sweet Georgia Brown!” You supposed to grin and play that. I hate to play in a place full of those kind of squares so bad that if there wasn’t nobody else to play to, I’d invest in some more property and just stay home and collect rents. I can’t stand dumb-ass people not respecting the other customers that have come to hear the music. Sometimes one table like that
has bugged me so that when I get home or to my hotel, I walk the floor because I can’t sleep.
I told you I ain’t going to play nowhere in the South that Negroes can’t come. But I ain’t going to play nowhere in the North that Negroes don’t come. It’s one of two reasons they won’t, either because they know they ain’t wanted, or because they don’t like the joint’s regular run of music. Negroes ain’t got as much money to throw away in night clubs as white people. So a club that Negroes patronize, you can figure that everybody that goes there comes expecting to hear good music.
Haley: What is your opinion of the jazz audiences in Europe?
Davis: European audiences are generally more hip about the background of jazz than most of the fans here. Some cats hardly heard of here are big record sellers in Europe. In this country, it’s more following of personalities. You want to hear something funny? One club-owner friend of mine said a lot of people pay their money to come where I’m playing just because they want to see me—they heard I’m so bad. Ain’t that a bitch?
But this country has a lot of great fans. You know, they appreciate what you’re trying to do, and that inspires a musician to give his best. I know some Americans that don’t stop with just knowing jazz, but that even think just like musicians.
Haley: Do you plan another European tour soon?
Davis: Maybe. I like to play in Europe every now and then, but I don’t like to spend no more time out of this house than I can help. Jack Whittemore, my booking agent at Shaw Artists, schedules me so I don’t stay long on the road. I like to have time at home to be with my kids and Frances, and to just think about things—like worrying about the people running this Government maybe slipping and getting us into another war. But I like them Kennedy brothers—they’re swinging people.
Haley: Would it please you if the image of you changed, that people quit regarding you as a tough guy?
Davis: Well, nobody wants to be always accused of something he ain’t done. But people that want to think that, it’s their worry, it ain’t mine. I’m like I am, and I ain’t planning to change. I ain’t scared of nothing or nobody, I already been through too much. I ought to be dead from just what I went through when I was on dope. I ain’t going around anywhere trying to be tough and a racist. I just say what I think, and that bugs people, especially a lot of white people. When they look in my eyes and don’t see no fear, they know it’s a draw.
Haley: Have you always been so sensitive about being a Negro?
Davis: About the first thing I can remember as a little boy was a white man running me down a street hollering “Nigger! Nigger!” My father went hunting him with a shotgun. Being sensitive and having race pride has been in my family since slave days. The slave Davises played classical string music on the plantations. My father, Miles the first, was born six years after the Emancipation. He wanted to play music, but my grandfather wanted him to be more than an entertainer for white folks. He made him go to Northwestern to be a dental surgeon. My father is worth more than I am. He’s a high-priced dental surgeon with more practice than he can handle—because he’s good at his business—and he raises hogs with pedigrees. It’s a special breed of hogs with some funny name I would tell you, but I never can remember it.
Haley: You’re said to be one of the financially best-off popular musicians. Is this correct?
Davis: Well, I don’t have any access to other musicians’ bankbooks. But I never have been what you would call poor. I grew up with an allowance, and I had a big newspaper route. I saved most of what I made except for buying records. But when I first left home as a musician, I used to spend all I made, and when I went on dope, I got in debt. But after I got enough sense to kick the habit, I started to make more than I needed to spend unless I was crazy or something.
Now I got a pretty good portfolio of stock investments, and I got this house—it’s worth into six figures, including everything in it. My four kids are coming up fine. When the boys get in from school, I want you to see them working out on the bags in our gym downstairs. I keep myself in shape and teach the kids how to box. They can handle themselves. Ain’t nothing better that a father can pass along.
Then I got my music, I got Frances, and my Ferrari—and our friends. I got everything a man could want—if it just wasn’t for this prejudice crap. It ain’t that I’m mad at white people, I just see what I see and I know what’s happening. I am going to speak my mind about anything that drags me about this Jim Crow scene. This whole prejudice mess is something you would feel so good if it could just be got rid of, like a big sore eating inside of your belly.
(The above interview by Alex Haley is presented to our audience under the Creative Commons License (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_creative_commons_license_usage.htm) . It was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy. © 1962 Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. © 1993 by Ballantine Books. All Rights Reserved.)
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Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (1962)
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** Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast)
————————————————————
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis
(The below Miles Davis interview by Alex Haley was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy Magazine. It was also published in Alex Haley: The Playboy Interviews by Ballantine Books in July 1993.)
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (September 1962)
In mid-1962, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner was given a partial transcript of an interview with jazz legend Miles Davis. It covered jazz, of course, but it also included Davis’s ruminations on race, politics and culture.
Fascinated, Hef sent the writer—future Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alex Haley (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_biography.htm) , an unknown at the time—back to glean even more opinion and insight from Davis.
The resulting exchange, published in the September 1962 issue, became the first official Playboy Interview and kicked off a remarkable run of public inquisition that continues today—and that has featured just about ever cultural titan of the last half century.
In the interview with Alex Haley, Davis candidly spoke about his thoughts and feelings on racism and it was that interview that set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine.
Here is a quote from Miles Davis: “Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.”
To celebrate the Interview’s 50th anniversary in 2012, the editors of Playboy have culled 50 of its most (in)famous Interviews and published them over the course of 50 weekdays (from September 4, 2012 to November 12, 2012) via Amazon’s Kindle Direct platform. Here is that first Interview with Miles Davis.
A Candid Conversation With The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast
“I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got is myself . . . and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.”
“In high school I was best in music class on the trumpet, but the prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn.”
“I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. You ever see anybody bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?”
The technical and emotional brilliance of the trumpet played by Miles Davis has made him one of the most provocative influences in modern jazz. We spent two days with Miles not long ago in his rather unusual five-story home, a converted Russian Orthodox Church on West 77th Street near the Hudson River in New York City. Miles was between gigs at the time and we accompanied him on his restless daily home routine, asking questions at propitious moments while he worked out in his basement gymnasium, made veal chops Italian style for his family, took telephone calls from fellow musicians, his lawyer and stockbroker, gave boxing lessons to his three sons, watched TV, plucked out beginner’s chords on a guitar and, of course, blew one of his two Martin trumpets, running up and down the chromatic scale with searing speed.
Spending time with Miles in the refuge of his own home, and seeing him surrounded by the activities and people he loves, it was hard to reconcile this reality with his sometimes flinty and truculent public posture. It was on this facet of his personality that we first queried him.
Haley: Linked with your musical renown is your reputation for bad temper and rudeness to your audiences. Would you comment?
Davis: Why is it that people just have to have so much to say about me? It bugs me because I’m not that important. Some critic that didn’t have nothing else to do started this crap about I don’t announce numbers, I don’t look at the audience, I don’t bow or talk to people, I walk off the stage, and all that.
Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.
The reason I don’t announce numbers is because it’s not until the last instant I decide what’s maybe the best thing to play next. Besides, if people don’t recognize a number when we play it, what difference does it make?
Why I sometimes walk off the stand is because when it’s somebody else’s turn to solo, I ain’t going to just stand up there and be detracting from him. What am I going to stand up there for? I ain’t no model, and I don’t sing or dance, and I damn sure ain’t no Uncle Tom just to be up there grinning. Sometimes I go over by the piano or the drums and listen to what they’re doing. But if I don’t want to do that, I go in the wings and listen to the whole band until it’s the next turn for my horn.
Then they claim I ignore the audience while I’m playing. Man, when I’m working, I know the people are out there. But when I’m playing, I’m worrying about making my horn sound right.
And they bitch that I won’t talk to people when we go off after a set. That’s a damn lie. I talk plenty of times if everything’s going like it ought to and I feel right. But if I got my mind on something about my band or something else, well, hell, no, I don’t want to talk. When I’m working I’m concentrating. I bet you if I was a doctor sewing on some son of a bitch’s heart, they wouldn’t want me to talk.
Anybody wants to believe all this crap they hear about me, it’s their problem, not mine. Because, look, man, I like people. I love people! I’m not going around telling everybody that. I try to say that my way—with my horn. Look, when I was a boy, 10 years old, I got a paper route and it got bigger than I could handle because my customers liked me so much. I just delivered papers the best I could and minded my business, the same way I play my horn now. But a lot of the people I meet now make me sick.
Haley: What types of people do you find especially irritating?
Davis: Well, these people that’s always coming up bugging me until they get me to act like this crap they heard. They ask you things, you say what you think, and if it ain’t what they want to hear, then something’s wrong with you and they go away mad and think you don’t like them. I bet I have had that happen 500 times. In this last club I played, this newspaper reporter kept after me when I told him I didn’t have no more to say. He wasn’t satisfied with that. After the next set, he come up again, either drunk or playing drunk, and shoved into me. I told him to get the hell out of my way, and then he was fine—he went right out and wrote that. But he didn’t tell how it happened.
And I’m mad every time I run into the Jim Crow scene, I don’t care what form it takes. You can’t hardly play anywhere you don’t run into some of these cats full of prejudice. I don’t know how many I’ve told, “Look, you want me to talk to you and you’re prejudiced against me and all that. Why’n’t you go on back where you’re sitting and be prejudiced by yourself and leave me alone?” I have enough problems without trying to make them feel better. Then they go off and join the rest saying I’m such a big bastard.
I’ve got no plans of changing what I think. I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. The average jazz musician today, if he’s making it, is just as trained as classical musicians. You ever see anybody go up bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?
Even in jazz—you look at the white bandleaders—if they don’t want anybody messing with them when they are working, you don’t hear anybody squawking. It’s just if a Negro is involved that there’s something wrong with him. My troubles started when I learned to play the trumpet and hadn’t learned to dance.
Haley: You feel that the complaints about you are because of your race?
Davis: I know damn well a lot of it is race. White people have certain things they expect from Negro musicians—just like they’ve got labels for the whole Negro race. It goes clear back to the slavery days. That was when Uncle Tomming got started because white people demanded it. Every little black child grew up seeing that getting along with white people meant grinning and acting clowns. It helped white people to feel easy about what they had done, and were doing, to Negroes, and that’s carried right on over to now. You bring it down to musicians, they want you to not only play your instrument, but to entertain them, too, with grinning and dancing.
Haley: Generally speaking, what are your feelings with regard to race?
Davis: I hate to talk about what I think of the mess because my friends are all colors. When I say that some of my best friends are white, I sure ain’t lying. The only white people I don’t like are the prejudiced white people. Those the shoe don’t fit, well, they don’t wear it. I don’t like the white people that show me they can’t understand that not just the Negroes, but the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and any other races that ain’t white, should be given dignity and respect like everybody else.
But let me straighten you—I ain’t saying I think all Negroes are the salt of the earth. It’s plenty of Negroes I can’t stand, too. Especially those that act like they think white people want them to. They bug me worse than Uncle Toms.
But prejudiced white people can’t see any of the other races as just individual people. If a white man robs a bank, it’s just a man robbed a bank. But if a Negro or a Puerto Rican does it, it’s them awful Negroes or Puerto Ricans. Hardly anybody not white hasn’t suffered from some of white people’s labels. It used to be said that all Negroes were shiftless and happy-go-lucky and lazy. But that’s been proved a lie so much that now the label is that what Negroes want integration for is so they can sleep in the bed with white people. It’s another damn lie. All Negroes want is to be free to do in this country just like anybody else. Prejudiced white people ask one another, “Would you want your sister to marry a Negro?” It’s a jive question to ask in the first place—as if white women stand around helpless if some Negro wants to drag one off to a preacher. It makes me sick to hear that. A Negro just might not want your sister. The Negro is always to blame if some white woman
decides she wants him. But it’s all right that ever since slavery, white men been having Negro women. Every Negro you see that ain’t black, that’s what’s happened somewhere in his background. The slaves they brought here were all black.
What makes me mad about these labels for Negroes is that very few white people really know what Negroes really feel like. A lot of white people have never even been in the company of an intelligent Negro. But you can hardly meet a white person, especially a white man, that don’t think he’s qualified to tell you all about Negroes.
You know the story the minute you meet some white cat and he comes off with a big show that he’s with you. It’s 10,000 things you can talk about, but the only thing he can think of is some other Negro he’s such close friends with. Intelligent Negroes are sick of hearing this. I don’t know how many times different whites have started talking, telling me they was raised up with a Negro boy. But I ain’t found one yet that knows whatever happened to that boy after they grew up.
Haley: Did you grow up with any white boys?
Davis: I didn’t grow up with any, not as friends, to speak of. But I went to school with some. In high school, I was the best in the music class on the trumpet. I knew it and all the rest knew it—but all the contest first prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. It made me so mad I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn. If I hadn’t met that prejudice, I probably wouldn’t have had as much drive in my work. I have thought about that a lot. I have thought that prejudice and curiosity have been responsible for what I have done in music.
Haley: What was the role of the curiosity?
Davis: I mean I always had a curiosity about trying new things in music. A new sound, another way to do something—things like that. But man, look, you know one of the biggest things that needs straightening up? The whole communication system of this country! Take the movies and TV. How many times do you see anybody in the films but white people? You don’t dig? Look, the next movie or TV you see, you count how many Negroes or any other race but white that you see. But you walk around in any city, you see the other races—I mean, in life they are part of the scene. But in the films supposed to represent this country, they ain’t there. You won’t hardly even see any in the street crowd scenes—because the studios didn’t bother to hire any as extras.
Negroes used to be servants and Uncle Toms in the movies. But so much stink was raised until they quit that. Now you do have some Negroes playing feature parts—maybe four or five a year. Most of the time, they have a role that’s special so it won’t offend nobody—then it’s a big production made like that picture is going to prove our democracy. Look, I ain’t saying that people making films are prejudiced. I can’t say what I don’t know. But I see the films they make, and I know they don’t think about the trouble a lot of colored people find with the movies and TV.
A big TV network wanted to do a show featuring me. I said no, and they asked me to just look at a show featuring a big-name Negro singer. No, I ain’t calling no names. Well, just like I knew, they had 18 girls dancing for the background—and every one of them was white. Later on, when I pointed this out to the TV people, they were shocked. They said they just hadn’t thought about that. I said I knew they hadn’t. Nobody seems to think much about the colored people and the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and Japanese that watch TV and buy the things they advertise. All these races want to see some of their own people represented in the shows—I mean, besides the big stars. I know I’d feel better to see some kids of all races dancing and acting on shows than I would feel about myself up there playing a horn. The only thing that makes me any different from them is I was lucky.
This black-white business is ticklish to try to explain. You don’t want to see Negroes every time you click on your set. That would be just as bad as now when you don’t see nobody but white people. But if movies and TV are supposed to reflect this country, and this country’s supposed to be democratic, then why don’t they do it? Let’s see all kinds of people dancing and acting. I see all kinds of kids downtown at the schools of dancing and acting, but from what I see in the movies and TV, it’s just the white ones that are getting any work.
Look, man, right in music you got the same thing happening. I got this album,Someday My Prince Will Come, and you know who’s on the jacket cover? My wife—Frances. I just got to thinking that as many record albums as Negroes buy, I hadn’t ever seen a Negro girl on a major album cover unless she was the artist. There wasn’t any harm meant—they just automatically thought about a white model and ordered one. It was my album and I’m Frances’ prince, so I suggested they use her for a model, and they did it.
But it ain’t all cases where white people just didn’t think about the other races. It’s a lot of intended discrimination, right in music. You got plenty of places that either won’t hire Negroes, or they hire just one that they point out. The network studios, the Broadway pit bands, the classical orchestras, the film studios, they all have color discrimination in hiring.
I tell you why I feel so strong about the communication system. I never have forgotten one time in Europe this nice old man told me how in World War II, the Europeans didn’t know what to make of Negro troops. They had their picture of this country from our magazines and movies, and with a very few exceptions like Pops Armstrong and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens, they didn’t know about any Negroes except servants and laborers.
Haley: Do you feel that your views are shared by most Negroes? And Puerto Ricans? And Orientals?
Davis: I can’t speak for them last two. I’m in no position, I just know what I personally feel for them. But I know that pretty nearly all Negroes hardly have any other choice about how they feel. They ain’t blind. They got to see what’s happening. It’s a thousand big and little ways that you run into the prejudices of white people. Just one thing—how long have Negroes been looking at immigrants coming into this country and can’t even speak the language, and in the second generations, they are in places the Negroes haven’t got to yet.
Look, not long ago this big magazine had this Southern truck driver saying he’d carry sandwiches if they let Negroes eat in them Maryland highway restaurants. But where he wants to eat ain’t my point—I’m talking about what he said. He said, “You give them a finger, they take an arm” and a lot more. You dig? When it comes to human rights, these prejudiced white people keep on acting like they own the damn franchise! And, man, with the world in the mess it’s in now, we trying to influence on our side all them Africans and Arabs and Indians and Chinese . . . You know two thirds of the people in the world ain’t white? They see all this crap with Negroes and supposed to feel white people really think any different about them? Man, somebody better get straight!
Another thing—there was no upset about them restaurants not serving Negroes, until it was an African they turned away. You think every Negro in the country don’t see what it says? It says that we been here 400 years, but it wasn’t no mess until they put out an African that just flew over here on a jet.
Haley: Do you, in your position as a famous Negro, meet prejudice?
Davis: I told you, someway or other, every Negro meets it, I don’t care who he is! Look, man, I sent for an electrician to fix something in the house. When he rang the bell, I answered and he looked at me like I was dirt, and said, “I want to see the owner, Mr. Davis.” When I said, “You looking at him,” the cat turned beet red. He had me figured as the porter. Now he’s mad and embarrassed. What had I done to him but called to give him work?
That same week, I had seen a lot of them West Point cadets, and in a bar I asked why there was so many of them in town. Man, I just asked the cat a question and he moved up the bar and didn’t speak! But then somebody recognized me and he got red as that electrician. He came trying to apologize and saying he had my records. I told him I had just paid enough taxes to cover his free ride at West Point, and I walked out. I guess he’s somewhere now with the others saying I’m such a bastard. It bugged me so, man, I wasn’t worth a damn for two or three days. It wasn’t just him ignoring me I was thinking about, but in two or three years, Gregory, my oldest boy, may be doing some Army time. How am I supposed to feel about him maybe serving under this cat?
Then take this tour I made—Frances and I had train reservations to California. But this clerk I showed my identification to, he took it and looked at me just like the West Point cat. When he said he had to check with somebody else, I asked him what was the trouble. You know he had the nerve to tell me I might have forged it! Ain’t no need of me telling you what I told him, nobody would print it. But we went to the airport and took a plane. I’m spending my money, the railroads are broke, even this son of a bitch’s job’s in trouble, but all he can see is I’m black, so it’s all right to insult me. Bad as I hate to fly, I ain’t been on a train since, because I haven’t met Jim Crow on the airlines.
Haley: In your field, music, don’t some Negro jazzmen discriminate against white musicians?
Davis: Crow Jim is what they call that. Yeah. It’s a lot of the Negro musicians mad because most of the best-paying jobs go to the white musicians playing what the Negroes created. But I don’t go for this, because I think prejudice one way is just as bad as the other way. I wouldn’t have no other arranger but Gil Evans—we couldn’t be much closer if he was my brother. And I remember one time when I hired Lee Konitz, some colored cats bitched a lot about me hiring an ofay in my band when Negroes didn’t have work. I said if a cat could play like Lee, I would hire him, I didn’t give a damn if he was green and had red breath.
Haley: Do you find that being the head of your band adds to your problems?
Davis: Fronting a band ain’t no fun. A lot of people don’t understand that music is business, it’s hard work and a big responsibility. I hate to even think what all I’ve been through to play my horn, and still go through. I put everything I’ve got into it. Even after a good rehearsal, I feel empty. And you add to playing your instrument the running of a band and you got plenty of problems. I got my own family, and the guys that work for me, and their families to think about. On one tour, I had this white woman in Kansas City meet me when I came off the stand and wanted me to come to her table with her and her husband for a drink. I told her I didn’t like to do that, and she hollered, “They said you’re like that!” I felt like throwing down my horn and kicking it. But I said to myself I was going to try and educate at least that one couple. So I went over and talked to them.
I told them an artist’s first responsibility was to himself. I said if he kept getting upset with what other people think he ought to do, he never would get too far, or he sure wouldn’t last. I tried to make them see how I had worked all my life to play myself and then to get a band worth people paying to hear. I said that a lot of times when people in a club wanted to talk to me, I needed to be worrying about something about my band. They said they understood. I hope they did.
Haley: You have been quoted as not being in favor of jazz concerts. Why?
Davis: Nobody can relax at concerts, the musicians or the people, either. You can’t do nothing but sit down, you can’t move around, you can’t have a drink. A musician has to be able to let loose everything in him to reach the people. If the musician can’t relax, how’s he going to make the people feel what he feels? The whole scene of jazz is feeling.
Haley: Do you now ever indulge in jam sessions?
Davis: I wish there was some jam sessions to sit in. But there ain’t none left—at least not in the big cities. I used to sit in some great ones around St. Louis and in Brooklyn, Illinois. We would blow sometimes clear up until the next afternoon. When I go back there now, I sit in with a little blues band. They have the feeling.
Haley: You’ve won all the trumpet polls. After yourself, how would you rank others?
Davis: After me! Hell, it’s plenty great trumpet players don’t come after me, or afternobody else! That’s what I hate so about critics—how they are always comparingartists . . . always writing that one’s better than another one. Ten men can have spent all their lives learning technical expertness on their instruments, but just like in any art, one will play one style and the rest nine other ways. And if some critics just don’t happen to like a man’s style, they will knock the artist. That bugs the hell out of musicians. It’s made some damn near mad enough to want to hang up their horns.
Trumpet players, like anybody else, are individualized by their different ideas and styles. The thing to judge in any jazz artist is does the man project, and does he have ideas. You take Dizzy—he does, all the time, every time he picks up his horn. Some more cats—Clark Terry, Ray Nance, Kenny Dorham, Roy Eldridge, Harold Baker, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hackett—a lot of them. Hell, that cat down in New Orleans, Al Hirt, he blows his ass off, too!
Haley: Is there any special reason you didn’t mention Louis Armstrong?
Davis: Oh, Pops? No, why I didn’t mention him is because I was talking just about modern-jazz players. I love Pops, I love the way he sings, the way he plays—everything he does, except when he says something against modern-jazz music. He ought to realize that he was a pioneer, too. No, he wasn’t an influence of mine, and I’ve had very little direct contact with Pops. A long time ago, I was at Bop City, and he came in and told me he liked my playing. I don’t know if he would even remember it, but I remember how good I felt to have him say it. People really dig Pops like I do myself. He does a good job overseas with his personality. But they ought to send him down South for goodwill. They need goodwill worse in Georgia and Alabama and Mississippi than they do in Europe.
Haley: To go back a moment, you expressed a sharp dislike of critics. Are there other reasons besides their comparing musicians?
Davis: Well, aside from that, I get sick of how a lot of them write whole columns and pages of big words and still ain’t saying nothing. If you have spent your life getting to know your business and the other cats in it, and what they are doing, then you know if a critic knows what he’s talking about. Most of the time they don’t.
I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself. My music has got to get past me and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.
No, I ain’t going to name critics I don’t like. But I will tell you some that I respect what they write—Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason and Leonard Feather. And some others, I can’t right off think of their names. But it ain’t a long list.
Haley: Are there any particular places or clubs that you don’t like to play?
Davis: There are plenty I won’t play! I won’t take a booking nowhere in the South. I told you I just can’t stand Jim Crow, so I ain’t going down there in it. There’s enough of it here in the North, but at least you have the support of some laws.
I won’t play nowhere I know has the kind of audiences that you waste your breath to play for. I’m talking about them expense-account ofays that use music as a background for getting high and trying to show off to the women they brought. They ain’t come to hear good music. They don’t even know how to enjoy themselves. They drink too much, they get loud, they got to be seen and heard. They’ll jump up and dance jigs and sing. They ain’t got no manners—don’t pay their women no respect. What they really want is some Uncle Tom entertainment if it’s a Negro group on the stand. These are the kind will holler, “Hey, boy, play Sweet Georgia Brown!” You supposed to grin and play that. I hate to play in a place full of those kind of squares so bad that if there wasn’t nobody else to play to, I’d invest in some more property and just stay home and collect rents. I can’t stand dumb-ass people not respecting the other customers that have come to hear the music. Sometimes one table like that
has bugged me so that when I get home or to my hotel, I walk the floor because I can’t sleep.
I told you I ain’t going to play nowhere in the South that Negroes can’t come. But I ain’t going to play nowhere in the North that Negroes don’t come. It’s one of two reasons they won’t, either because they know they ain’t wanted, or because they don’t like the joint’s regular run of music. Negroes ain’t got as much money to throw away in night clubs as white people. So a club that Negroes patronize, you can figure that everybody that goes there comes expecting to hear good music.
Haley: What is your opinion of the jazz audiences in Europe?
Davis: European audiences are generally more hip about the background of jazz than most of the fans here. Some cats hardly heard of here are big record sellers in Europe. In this country, it’s more following of personalities. You want to hear something funny? One club-owner friend of mine said a lot of people pay their money to come where I’m playing just because they want to see me—they heard I’m so bad. Ain’t that a bitch?
But this country has a lot of great fans. You know, they appreciate what you’re trying to do, and that inspires a musician to give his best. I know some Americans that don’t stop with just knowing jazz, but that even think just like musicians.
Haley: Do you plan another European tour soon?
Davis: Maybe. I like to play in Europe every now and then, but I don’t like to spend no more time out of this house than I can help. Jack Whittemore, my booking agent at Shaw Artists, schedules me so I don’t stay long on the road. I like to have time at home to be with my kids and Frances, and to just think about things—like worrying about the people running this Government maybe slipping and getting us into another war. But I like them Kennedy brothers—they’re swinging people.
Haley: Would it please you if the image of you changed, that people quit regarding you as a tough guy?
Davis: Well, nobody wants to be always accused of something he ain’t done. But people that want to think that, it’s their worry, it ain’t mine. I’m like I am, and I ain’t planning to change. I ain’t scared of nothing or nobody, I already been through too much. I ought to be dead from just what I went through when I was on dope. I ain’t going around anywhere trying to be tough and a racist. I just say what I think, and that bugs people, especially a lot of white people. When they look in my eyes and don’t see no fear, they know it’s a draw.
Haley: Have you always been so sensitive about being a Negro?
Davis: About the first thing I can remember as a little boy was a white man running me down a street hollering “Nigger! Nigger!” My father went hunting him with a shotgun. Being sensitive and having race pride has been in my family since slave days. The slave Davises played classical string music on the plantations. My father, Miles the first, was born six years after the Emancipation. He wanted to play music, but my grandfather wanted him to be more than an entertainer for white folks. He made him go to Northwestern to be a dental surgeon. My father is worth more than I am. He’s a high-priced dental surgeon with more practice than he can handle—because he’s good at his business—and he raises hogs with pedigrees. It’s a special breed of hogs with some funny name I would tell you, but I never can remember it.
Haley: You’re said to be one of the financially best-off popular musicians. Is this correct?
Davis: Well, I don’t have any access to other musicians’ bankbooks. But I never have been what you would call poor. I grew up with an allowance, and I had a big newspaper route. I saved most of what I made except for buying records. But when I first left home as a musician, I used to spend all I made, and when I went on dope, I got in debt. But after I got enough sense to kick the habit, I started to make more than I needed to spend unless I was crazy or something.
Now I got a pretty good portfolio of stock investments, and I got this house—it’s worth into six figures, including everything in it. My four kids are coming up fine. When the boys get in from school, I want you to see them working out on the bags in our gym downstairs. I keep myself in shape and teach the kids how to box. They can handle themselves. Ain’t nothing better that a father can pass along.
Then I got my music, I got Frances, and my Ferrari—and our friends. I got everything a man could want—if it just wasn’t for this prejudice crap. It ain’t that I’m mad at white people, I just see what I see and I know what’s happening. I am going to speak my mind about anything that drags me about this Jim Crow scene. This whole prejudice mess is something you would feel so good if it could just be got rid of, like a big sore eating inside of your belly.
(The above interview by Alex Haley is presented to our audience under the Creative Commons License (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_creative_commons_license_usage.htm) . It was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy. © 1962 Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. © 1993 by Ballantine Books. All Rights Reserved.)
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Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (1962)
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** Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast)
————————————————————
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis
(The below Miles Davis interview by Alex Haley was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy Magazine. It was also published in Alex Haley: The Playboy Interviews by Ballantine Books in July 1993.)
Alex Haley Interviews Miles Davis (September 1962)
In mid-1962, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner was given a partial transcript of an interview with jazz legend Miles Davis. It covered jazz, of course, but it also included Davis’s ruminations on race, politics and culture.
Fascinated, Hef sent the writer—future Pulitzer-Prize-winning author Alex Haley (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_biography.htm) , an unknown at the time—back to glean even more opinion and insight from Davis.
The resulting exchange, published in the September 1962 issue, became the first official Playboy Interview and kicked off a remarkable run of public inquisition that continues today—and that has featured just about ever cultural titan of the last half century.
In the interview with Alex Haley, Davis candidly spoke about his thoughts and feelings on racism and it was that interview that set the tone for what became a significant feature of the magazine.
Here is a quote from Miles Davis: “Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.”
To celebrate the Interview’s 50th anniversary in 2012, the editors of Playboy have culled 50 of its most (in)famous Interviews and published them over the course of 50 weekdays (from September 4, 2012 to November 12, 2012) via Amazon’s Kindle Direct platform. Here is that first Interview with Miles Davis.
A Candid Conversation With The Jazz World’s Premier Iconoclast
“I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got is myself . . . and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.”
“In high school I was best in music class on the trumpet, but the prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn.”
“I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. You ever see anybody bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?”
The technical and emotional brilliance of the trumpet played by Miles Davis has made him one of the most provocative influences in modern jazz. We spent two days with Miles not long ago in his rather unusual five-story home, a converted Russian Orthodox Church on West 77th Street near the Hudson River in New York City. Miles was between gigs at the time and we accompanied him on his restless daily home routine, asking questions at propitious moments while he worked out in his basement gymnasium, made veal chops Italian style for his family, took telephone calls from fellow musicians, his lawyer and stockbroker, gave boxing lessons to his three sons, watched TV, plucked out beginner’s chords on a guitar and, of course, blew one of his two Martin trumpets, running up and down the chromatic scale with searing speed.
Spending time with Miles in the refuge of his own home, and seeing him surrounded by the activities and people he loves, it was hard to reconcile this reality with his sometimes flinty and truculent public posture. It was on this facet of his personality that we first queried him.
Haley: Linked with your musical renown is your reputation for bad temper and rudeness to your audiences. Would you comment?
Davis: Why is it that people just have to have so much to say about me? It bugs me because I’m not that important. Some critic that didn’t have nothing else to do started this crap about I don’t announce numbers, I don’t look at the audience, I don’t bow or talk to people, I walk off the stage, and all that.
Look, man, all I am is a trumpet player. I only can do one thing—play my horn—and that’s what’s at the bottom of the whole mess. I ain’t no entertainer, and ain’t trying to be one. I am one thing, a musician. Most of what’s said about me is lies in the first place. Everything I do, I got a reason.
The reason I don’t announce numbers is because it’s not until the last instant I decide what’s maybe the best thing to play next. Besides, if people don’t recognize a number when we play it, what difference does it make?
Why I sometimes walk off the stand is because when it’s somebody else’s turn to solo, I ain’t going to just stand up there and be detracting from him. What am I going to stand up there for? I ain’t no model, and I don’t sing or dance, and I damn sure ain’t no Uncle Tom just to be up there grinning. Sometimes I go over by the piano or the drums and listen to what they’re doing. But if I don’t want to do that, I go in the wings and listen to the whole band until it’s the next turn for my horn.
Then they claim I ignore the audience while I’m playing. Man, when I’m working, I know the people are out there. But when I’m playing, I’m worrying about making my horn sound right.
And they bitch that I won’t talk to people when we go off after a set. That’s a damn lie. I talk plenty of times if everything’s going like it ought to and I feel right. But if I got my mind on something about my band or something else, well, hell, no, I don’t want to talk. When I’m working I’m concentrating. I bet you if I was a doctor sewing on some son of a bitch’s heart, they wouldn’t want me to talk.
Anybody wants to believe all this crap they hear about me, it’s their problem, not mine. Because, look, man, I like people. I love people! I’m not going around telling everybody that. I try to say that my way—with my horn. Look, when I was a boy, 10 years old, I got a paper route and it got bigger than I could handle because my customers liked me so much. I just delivered papers the best I could and minded my business, the same way I play my horn now. But a lot of the people I meet now make me sick.
Haley: What types of people do you find especially irritating?
Davis: Well, these people that’s always coming up bugging me until they get me to act like this crap they heard. They ask you things, you say what you think, and if it ain’t what they want to hear, then something’s wrong with you and they go away mad and think you don’t like them. I bet I have had that happen 500 times. In this last club I played, this newspaper reporter kept after me when I told him I didn’t have no more to say. He wasn’t satisfied with that. After the next set, he come up again, either drunk or playing drunk, and shoved into me. I told him to get the hell out of my way, and then he was fine—he went right out and wrote that. But he didn’t tell how it happened.
And I’m mad every time I run into the Jim Crow scene, I don’t care what form it takes. You can’t hardly play anywhere you don’t run into some of these cats full of prejudice. I don’t know how many I’ve told, “Look, you want me to talk to you and you’re prejudiced against me and all that. Why’n’t you go on back where you’re sitting and be prejudiced by yourself and leave me alone?” I have enough problems without trying to make them feel better. Then they go off and join the rest saying I’m such a big bastard.
I’ve got no plans of changing what I think. I don’t dig people in clubs who don’t pay the musicians respect. The average jazz musician today, if he’s making it, is just as trained as classical musicians. You ever see anybody go up bugging the classical musicians when they are on the job and trying to work?
Even in jazz—you look at the white bandleaders—if they don’t want anybody messing with them when they are working, you don’t hear anybody squawking. It’s just if a Negro is involved that there’s something wrong with him. My troubles started when I learned to play the trumpet and hadn’t learned to dance.
Haley: You feel that the complaints about you are because of your race?
Davis: I know damn well a lot of it is race. White people have certain things they expect from Negro musicians—just like they’ve got labels for the whole Negro race. It goes clear back to the slavery days. That was when Uncle Tomming got started because white people demanded it. Every little black child grew up seeing that getting along with white people meant grinning and acting clowns. It helped white people to feel easy about what they had done, and were doing, to Negroes, and that’s carried right on over to now. You bring it down to musicians, they want you to not only play your instrument, but to entertain them, too, with grinning and dancing.
Haley: Generally speaking, what are your feelings with regard to race?
Davis: I hate to talk about what I think of the mess because my friends are all colors. When I say that some of my best friends are white, I sure ain’t lying. The only white people I don’t like are the prejudiced white people. Those the shoe don’t fit, well, they don’t wear it. I don’t like the white people that show me they can’t understand that not just the Negroes, but the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and any other races that ain’t white, should be given dignity and respect like everybody else.
But let me straighten you—I ain’t saying I think all Negroes are the salt of the earth. It’s plenty of Negroes I can’t stand, too. Especially those that act like they think white people want them to. They bug me worse than Uncle Toms.
But prejudiced white people can’t see any of the other races as just individual people. If a white man robs a bank, it’s just a man robbed a bank. But if a Negro or a Puerto Rican does it, it’s them awful Negroes or Puerto Ricans. Hardly anybody not white hasn’t suffered from some of white people’s labels. It used to be said that all Negroes were shiftless and happy-go-lucky and lazy. But that’s been proved a lie so much that now the label is that what Negroes want integration for is so they can sleep in the bed with white people. It’s another damn lie. All Negroes want is to be free to do in this country just like anybody else. Prejudiced white people ask one another, “Would you want your sister to marry a Negro?” It’s a jive question to ask in the first place—as if white women stand around helpless if some Negro wants to drag one off to a preacher. It makes me sick to hear that. A Negro just might not want your sister. The Negro is always to blame if some white woman
decides she wants him. But it’s all right that ever since slavery, white men been having Negro women. Every Negro you see that ain’t black, that’s what’s happened somewhere in his background. The slaves they brought here were all black.
What makes me mad about these labels for Negroes is that very few white people really know what Negroes really feel like. A lot of white people have never even been in the company of an intelligent Negro. But you can hardly meet a white person, especially a white man, that don’t think he’s qualified to tell you all about Negroes.
You know the story the minute you meet some white cat and he comes off with a big show that he’s with you. It’s 10,000 things you can talk about, but the only thing he can think of is some other Negro he’s such close friends with. Intelligent Negroes are sick of hearing this. I don’t know how many times different whites have started talking, telling me they was raised up with a Negro boy. But I ain’t found one yet that knows whatever happened to that boy after they grew up.
Haley: Did you grow up with any white boys?
Davis: I didn’t grow up with any, not as friends, to speak of. But I went to school with some. In high school, I was the best in the music class on the trumpet. I knew it and all the rest knew it—but all the contest first prizes went to the boys with blue eyes. It made me so mad I made up my mind to outdo anybody white on my horn. If I hadn’t met that prejudice, I probably wouldn’t have had as much drive in my work. I have thought about that a lot. I have thought that prejudice and curiosity have been responsible for what I have done in music.
Haley: What was the role of the curiosity?
Davis: I mean I always had a curiosity about trying new things in music. A new sound, another way to do something—things like that. But man, look, you know one of the biggest things that needs straightening up? The whole communication system of this country! Take the movies and TV. How many times do you see anybody in the films but white people? You don’t dig? Look, the next movie or TV you see, you count how many Negroes or any other race but white that you see. But you walk around in any city, you see the other races—I mean, in life they are part of the scene. But in the films supposed to represent this country, they ain’t there. You won’t hardly even see any in the street crowd scenes—because the studios didn’t bother to hire any as extras.
Negroes used to be servants and Uncle Toms in the movies. But so much stink was raised until they quit that. Now you do have some Negroes playing feature parts—maybe four or five a year. Most of the time, they have a role that’s special so it won’t offend nobody—then it’s a big production made like that picture is going to prove our democracy. Look, I ain’t saying that people making films are prejudiced. I can’t say what I don’t know. But I see the films they make, and I know they don’t think about the trouble a lot of colored people find with the movies and TV.
A big TV network wanted to do a show featuring me. I said no, and they asked me to just look at a show featuring a big-name Negro singer. No, I ain’t calling no names. Well, just like I knew, they had 18 girls dancing for the background—and every one of them was white. Later on, when I pointed this out to the TV people, they were shocked. They said they just hadn’t thought about that. I said I knew they hadn’t. Nobody seems to think much about the colored people and the Chinese and Puerto Ricans and Japanese that watch TV and buy the things they advertise. All these races want to see some of their own people represented in the shows—I mean, besides the big stars. I know I’d feel better to see some kids of all races dancing and acting on shows than I would feel about myself up there playing a horn. The only thing that makes me any different from them is I was lucky.
This black-white business is ticklish to try to explain. You don’t want to see Negroes every time you click on your set. That would be just as bad as now when you don’t see nobody but white people. But if movies and TV are supposed to reflect this country, and this country’s supposed to be democratic, then why don’t they do it? Let’s see all kinds of people dancing and acting. I see all kinds of kids downtown at the schools of dancing and acting, but from what I see in the movies and TV, it’s just the white ones that are getting any work.
Look, man, right in music you got the same thing happening. I got this album,Someday My Prince Will Come, and you know who’s on the jacket cover? My wife—Frances. I just got to thinking that as many record albums as Negroes buy, I hadn’t ever seen a Negro girl on a major album cover unless she was the artist. There wasn’t any harm meant—they just automatically thought about a white model and ordered one. It was my album and I’m Frances’ prince, so I suggested they use her for a model, and they did it.
But it ain’t all cases where white people just didn’t think about the other races. It’s a lot of intended discrimination, right in music. You got plenty of places that either won’t hire Negroes, or they hire just one that they point out. The network studios, the Broadway pit bands, the classical orchestras, the film studios, they all have color discrimination in hiring.
I tell you why I feel so strong about the communication system. I never have forgotten one time in Europe this nice old man told me how in World War II, the Europeans didn’t know what to make of Negro troops. They had their picture of this country from our magazines and movies, and with a very few exceptions like Pops Armstrong and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens, they didn’t know about any Negroes except servants and laborers.
Haley: Do you feel that your views are shared by most Negroes? And Puerto Ricans? And Orientals?
Davis: I can’t speak for them last two. I’m in no position, I just know what I personally feel for them. But I know that pretty nearly all Negroes hardly have any other choice about how they feel. They ain’t blind. They got to see what’s happening. It’s a thousand big and little ways that you run into the prejudices of white people. Just one thing—how long have Negroes been looking at immigrants coming into this country and can’t even speak the language, and in the second generations, they are in places the Negroes haven’t got to yet.
Look, not long ago this big magazine had this Southern truck driver saying he’d carry sandwiches if they let Negroes eat in them Maryland highway restaurants. But where he wants to eat ain’t my point—I’m talking about what he said. He said, “You give them a finger, they take an arm” and a lot more. You dig? When it comes to human rights, these prejudiced white people keep on acting like they own the damn franchise! And, man, with the world in the mess it’s in now, we trying to influence on our side all them Africans and Arabs and Indians and Chinese . . . You know two thirds of the people in the world ain’t white? They see all this crap with Negroes and supposed to feel white people really think any different about them? Man, somebody better get straight!
Another thing—there was no upset about them restaurants not serving Negroes, until it was an African they turned away. You think every Negro in the country don’t see what it says? It says that we been here 400 years, but it wasn’t no mess until they put out an African that just flew over here on a jet.
Haley: Do you, in your position as a famous Negro, meet prejudice?
Davis: I told you, someway or other, every Negro meets it, I don’t care who he is! Look, man, I sent for an electrician to fix something in the house. When he rang the bell, I answered and he looked at me like I was dirt, and said, “I want to see the owner, Mr. Davis.” When I said, “You looking at him,” the cat turned beet red. He had me figured as the porter. Now he’s mad and embarrassed. What had I done to him but called to give him work?
That same week, I had seen a lot of them West Point cadets, and in a bar I asked why there was so many of them in town. Man, I just asked the cat a question and he moved up the bar and didn’t speak! But then somebody recognized me and he got red as that electrician. He came trying to apologize and saying he had my records. I told him I had just paid enough taxes to cover his free ride at West Point, and I walked out. I guess he’s somewhere now with the others saying I’m such a bastard. It bugged me so, man, I wasn’t worth a damn for two or three days. It wasn’t just him ignoring me I was thinking about, but in two or three years, Gregory, my oldest boy, may be doing some Army time. How am I supposed to feel about him maybe serving under this cat?
Then take this tour I made—Frances and I had train reservations to California. But this clerk I showed my identification to, he took it and looked at me just like the West Point cat. When he said he had to check with somebody else, I asked him what was the trouble. You know he had the nerve to tell me I might have forged it! Ain’t no need of me telling you what I told him, nobody would print it. But we went to the airport and took a plane. I’m spending my money, the railroads are broke, even this son of a bitch’s job’s in trouble, but all he can see is I’m black, so it’s all right to insult me. Bad as I hate to fly, I ain’t been on a train since, because I haven’t met Jim Crow on the airlines.
Haley: In your field, music, don’t some Negro jazzmen discriminate against white musicians?
Davis: Crow Jim is what they call that. Yeah. It’s a lot of the Negro musicians mad because most of the best-paying jobs go to the white musicians playing what the Negroes created. But I don’t go for this, because I think prejudice one way is just as bad as the other way. I wouldn’t have no other arranger but Gil Evans—we couldn’t be much closer if he was my brother. And I remember one time when I hired Lee Konitz, some colored cats bitched a lot about me hiring an ofay in my band when Negroes didn’t have work. I said if a cat could play like Lee, I would hire him, I didn’t give a damn if he was green and had red breath.
Haley: Do you find that being the head of your band adds to your problems?
Davis: Fronting a band ain’t no fun. A lot of people don’t understand that music is business, it’s hard work and a big responsibility. I hate to even think what all I’ve been through to play my horn, and still go through. I put everything I’ve got into it. Even after a good rehearsal, I feel empty. And you add to playing your instrument the running of a band and you got plenty of problems. I got my own family, and the guys that work for me, and their families to think about. On one tour, I had this white woman in Kansas City meet me when I came off the stand and wanted me to come to her table with her and her husband for a drink. I told her I didn’t like to do that, and she hollered, “They said you’re like that!” I felt like throwing down my horn and kicking it. But I said to myself I was going to try and educate at least that one couple. So I went over and talked to them.
I told them an artist’s first responsibility was to himself. I said if he kept getting upset with what other people think he ought to do, he never would get too far, or he sure wouldn’t last. I tried to make them see how I had worked all my life to play myself and then to get a band worth people paying to hear. I said that a lot of times when people in a club wanted to talk to me, I needed to be worrying about something about my band. They said they understood. I hope they did.
Haley: You have been quoted as not being in favor of jazz concerts. Why?
Davis: Nobody can relax at concerts, the musicians or the people, either. You can’t do nothing but sit down, you can’t move around, you can’t have a drink. A musician has to be able to let loose everything in him to reach the people. If the musician can’t relax, how’s he going to make the people feel what he feels? The whole scene of jazz is feeling.
Haley: Do you now ever indulge in jam sessions?
Davis: I wish there was some jam sessions to sit in. But there ain’t none left—at least not in the big cities. I used to sit in some great ones around St. Louis and in Brooklyn, Illinois. We would blow sometimes clear up until the next afternoon. When I go back there now, I sit in with a little blues band. They have the feeling.
Haley: You’ve won all the trumpet polls. After yourself, how would you rank others?
Davis: After me! Hell, it’s plenty great trumpet players don’t come after me, or afternobody else! That’s what I hate so about critics—how they are always comparingartists . . . always writing that one’s better than another one. Ten men can have spent all their lives learning technical expertness on their instruments, but just like in any art, one will play one style and the rest nine other ways. And if some critics just don’t happen to like a man’s style, they will knock the artist. That bugs the hell out of musicians. It’s made some damn near mad enough to want to hang up their horns.
Trumpet players, like anybody else, are individualized by their different ideas and styles. The thing to judge in any jazz artist is does the man project, and does he have ideas. You take Dizzy—he does, all the time, every time he picks up his horn. Some more cats—Clark Terry, Ray Nance, Kenny Dorham, Roy Eldridge, Harold Baker, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hackett—a lot of them. Hell, that cat down in New Orleans, Al Hirt, he blows his ass off, too!
Haley: Is there any special reason you didn’t mention Louis Armstrong?
Davis: Oh, Pops? No, why I didn’t mention him is because I was talking just about modern-jazz players. I love Pops, I love the way he sings, the way he plays—everything he does, except when he says something against modern-jazz music. He ought to realize that he was a pioneer, too. No, he wasn’t an influence of mine, and I’ve had very little direct contact with Pops. A long time ago, I was at Bop City, and he came in and told me he liked my playing. I don’t know if he would even remember it, but I remember how good I felt to have him say it. People really dig Pops like I do myself. He does a good job overseas with his personality. But they ought to send him down South for goodwill. They need goodwill worse in Georgia and Alabama and Mississippi than they do in Europe.
Haley: To go back a moment, you expressed a sharp dislike of critics. Are there other reasons besides their comparing musicians?
Davis: Well, aside from that, I get sick of how a lot of them write whole columns and pages of big words and still ain’t saying nothing. If you have spent your life getting to know your business and the other cats in it, and what they are doing, then you know if a critic knows what he’s talking about. Most of the time they don’t.
I don’t pay no attention to what critics say about me, the good or the bad. The toughest critic I got, and the only one I worry about, is myself. My music has got to get past me and I’m too vain to play anything I think is bad.
No, I ain’t going to name critics I don’t like. But I will tell you some that I respect what they write—Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason and Leonard Feather. And some others, I can’t right off think of their names. But it ain’t a long list.
Haley: Are there any particular places or clubs that you don’t like to play?
Davis: There are plenty I won’t play! I won’t take a booking nowhere in the South. I told you I just can’t stand Jim Crow, so I ain’t going down there in it. There’s enough of it here in the North, but at least you have the support of some laws.
I won’t play nowhere I know has the kind of audiences that you waste your breath to play for. I’m talking about them expense-account ofays that use music as a background for getting high and trying to show off to the women they brought. They ain’t come to hear good music. They don’t even know how to enjoy themselves. They drink too much, they get loud, they got to be seen and heard. They’ll jump up and dance jigs and sing. They ain’t got no manners—don’t pay their women no respect. What they really want is some Uncle Tom entertainment if it’s a Negro group on the stand. These are the kind will holler, “Hey, boy, play Sweet Georgia Brown!” You supposed to grin and play that. I hate to play in a place full of those kind of squares so bad that if there wasn’t nobody else to play to, I’d invest in some more property and just stay home and collect rents. I can’t stand dumb-ass people not respecting the other customers that have come to hear the music. Sometimes one table like that
has bugged me so that when I get home or to my hotel, I walk the floor because I can’t sleep.
I told you I ain’t going to play nowhere in the South that Negroes can’t come. But I ain’t going to play nowhere in the North that Negroes don’t come. It’s one of two reasons they won’t, either because they know they ain’t wanted, or because they don’t like the joint’s regular run of music. Negroes ain’t got as much money to throw away in night clubs as white people. So a club that Negroes patronize, you can figure that everybody that goes there comes expecting to hear good music.
Haley: What is your opinion of the jazz audiences in Europe?
Davis: European audiences are generally more hip about the background of jazz than most of the fans here. Some cats hardly heard of here are big record sellers in Europe. In this country, it’s more following of personalities. You want to hear something funny? One club-owner friend of mine said a lot of people pay their money to come where I’m playing just because they want to see me—they heard I’m so bad. Ain’t that a bitch?
But this country has a lot of great fans. You know, they appreciate what you’re trying to do, and that inspires a musician to give his best. I know some Americans that don’t stop with just knowing jazz, but that even think just like musicians.
Haley: Do you plan another European tour soon?
Davis: Maybe. I like to play in Europe every now and then, but I don’t like to spend no more time out of this house than I can help. Jack Whittemore, my booking agent at Shaw Artists, schedules me so I don’t stay long on the road. I like to have time at home to be with my kids and Frances, and to just think about things—like worrying about the people running this Government maybe slipping and getting us into another war. But I like them Kennedy brothers—they’re swinging people.
Haley: Would it please you if the image of you changed, that people quit regarding you as a tough guy?
Davis: Well, nobody wants to be always accused of something he ain’t done. But people that want to think that, it’s their worry, it ain’t mine. I’m like I am, and I ain’t planning to change. I ain’t scared of nothing or nobody, I already been through too much. I ought to be dead from just what I went through when I was on dope. I ain’t going around anywhere trying to be tough and a racist. I just say what I think, and that bugs people, especially a lot of white people. When they look in my eyes and don’t see no fear, they know it’s a draw.
Haley: Have you always been so sensitive about being a Negro?
Davis: About the first thing I can remember as a little boy was a white man running me down a street hollering “Nigger! Nigger!” My father went hunting him with a shotgun. Being sensitive and having race pride has been in my family since slave days. The slave Davises played classical string music on the plantations. My father, Miles the first, was born six years after the Emancipation. He wanted to play music, but my grandfather wanted him to be more than an entertainer for white folks. He made him go to Northwestern to be a dental surgeon. My father is worth more than I am. He’s a high-priced dental surgeon with more practice than he can handle—because he’s good at his business—and he raises hogs with pedigrees. It’s a special breed of hogs with some funny name I would tell you, but I never can remember it.
Haley: You’re said to be one of the financially best-off popular musicians. Is this correct?
Davis: Well, I don’t have any access to other musicians’ bankbooks. But I never have been what you would call poor. I grew up with an allowance, and I had a big newspaper route. I saved most of what I made except for buying records. But when I first left home as a musician, I used to spend all I made, and when I went on dope, I got in debt. But after I got enough sense to kick the habit, I started to make more than I needed to spend unless I was crazy or something.
Now I got a pretty good portfolio of stock investments, and I got this house—it’s worth into six figures, including everything in it. My four kids are coming up fine. When the boys get in from school, I want you to see them working out on the bags in our gym downstairs. I keep myself in shape and teach the kids how to box. They can handle themselves. Ain’t nothing better that a father can pass along.
Then I got my music, I got Frances, and my Ferrari—and our friends. I got everything a man could want—if it just wasn’t for this prejudice crap. It ain’t that I’m mad at white people, I just see what I see and I know what’s happening. I am going to speak my mind about anything that drags me about this Jim Crow scene. This whole prejudice mess is something you would feel so good if it could just be got rid of, like a big sore eating inside of your belly.
(The above interview by Alex Haley is presented to our audience under the Creative Commons License (safari-reader://www.alex-haley.com/alex_haley_creative_commons_license_usage.htm) . It was originally published in the September 1962 issue of Playboy. © 1962 Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. © 1993 by Ballantine Books. All Rights Reserved.)
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Happy Birthday goes public domain as Warner settles lawsuit
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Happy Birthday going public domain as Warner/Chappell settles lawsuit (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=cb5be12edb&e=05e747ac44)
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Many say it’s the most performed song in the world – and now no-one’s going to have to pay for the privilege. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1a46c6be98&e=05e747ac44)
A two-year-old lawsuit over the ownership of the copyright of Happy Birthday is coming to a close, as publisher Warner/Chappell settles with the plaintiffs who kicked off the dispute. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=6464a279a9&e=05e747ac44)
The most important outcome: once the settlement process has been approved, Happy Birthday will be in the public domain. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=c6ba9e12ef&e=05e747ac44)
That’s not an ideal outcome for Warner/Chappell, which was previously generating around $2m in royalties from the song each year. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=5f1eafba96&e=05e747ac44)
The lawsuit kicked off in 2013 after documentary filmmaker Jennifer Nelson filed a putative class action case against Warner/Chappell, claiming its copyright of Happy Birthday was not lawful. In September, federal judge George H King agreed, ruling that Warner/Chappell’s copyright claim was legally invalid and giving summary judgement to the plaintiffs. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=6b2d7df7aa&e=05e747ac44)
Warner/Chappell argued that the judge should reconsider this ruling or authorise an appeal, before US children’s charity ACEI intervened in the suit with new evidence. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=dd89c79c7d&e=05e747ac44)
There will, however, be no appeal, or trial investigating ACEI’s claims, because Warner/Chappell has chosen to settle. As a result, Happy Birthday will soon belong to everyone. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=2c9f712872&e=05e747ac44)
A spokesperson for Warner/Chappell told MBW: “While we respectfully disagreed with the Court’s decision, we are pleased to have now resolved this matter.” (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1ff4387325&e=05e747ac44)
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USA
Happy Birthday goes public domain as Warner settles lawsuit
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View email in browser (http://us9.campaign-archive1.com/?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=9b44c9e166&e=05e747ac44) 09/12/15 (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=5faede773c&e=05e747ac44)
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NEWS ALERT
Happy Birthday going public domain as Warner/Chappell settles lawsuit (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=cb5be12edb&e=05e747ac44)
http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=bcd5fd2107&e=05e747ac44
Many say it’s the most performed song in the world – and now no-one’s going to have to pay for the privilege. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1a46c6be98&e=05e747ac44)
A two-year-old lawsuit over the ownership of the copyright of Happy Birthday is coming to a close, as publisher Warner/Chappell settles with the plaintiffs who kicked off the dispute. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=6464a279a9&e=05e747ac44)
The most important outcome: once the settlement process has been approved, Happy Birthday will be in the public domain. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=c6ba9e12ef&e=05e747ac44)
That’s not an ideal outcome for Warner/Chappell, which was previously generating around $2m in royalties from the song each year. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=5f1eafba96&e=05e747ac44)
The lawsuit kicked off in 2013 after documentary filmmaker Jennifer Nelson filed a putative class action case against Warner/Chappell, claiming its copyright of Happy Birthday was not lawful. In September, federal judge George H King agreed, ruling that Warner/Chappell’s copyright claim was legally invalid and giving summary judgement to the plaintiffs. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=6b2d7df7aa&e=05e747ac44)
Warner/Chappell argued that the judge should reconsider this ruling or authorise an appeal, before US children’s charity ACEI intervened in the suit with new evidence. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=dd89c79c7d&e=05e747ac44)
There will, however, be no appeal, or trial investigating ACEI’s claims, because Warner/Chappell has chosen to settle. As a result, Happy Birthday will soon belong to everyone. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=2c9f712872&e=05e747ac44)
A spokesperson for Warner/Chappell told MBW: “While we respectfully disagreed with the Court’s decision, we are pleased to have now resolved this matter.” (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1ff4387325&e=05e747ac44)
http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1e27b78989&e=05e747ac44
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
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269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Happy Birthday goes public domain as Warner settles lawsuit
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View email in browser (http://us9.campaign-archive1.com/?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=9b44c9e166&e=05e747ac44) 09/12/15 (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=5faede773c&e=05e747ac44)
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NEWS ALERT
Happy Birthday going public domain as Warner/Chappell settles lawsuit (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=cb5be12edb&e=05e747ac44)
http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=bcd5fd2107&e=05e747ac44
Many say it’s the most performed song in the world – and now no-one’s going to have to pay for the privilege. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1a46c6be98&e=05e747ac44)
A two-year-old lawsuit over the ownership of the copyright of Happy Birthday is coming to a close, as publisher Warner/Chappell settles with the plaintiffs who kicked off the dispute. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=6464a279a9&e=05e747ac44)
The most important outcome: once the settlement process has been approved, Happy Birthday will be in the public domain. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=c6ba9e12ef&e=05e747ac44)
That’s not an ideal outcome for Warner/Chappell, which was previously generating around $2m in royalties from the song each year. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=5f1eafba96&e=05e747ac44)
The lawsuit kicked off in 2013 after documentary filmmaker Jennifer Nelson filed a putative class action case against Warner/Chappell, claiming its copyright of Happy Birthday was not lawful. In September, federal judge George H King agreed, ruling that Warner/Chappell’s copyright claim was legally invalid and giving summary judgement to the plaintiffs. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=6b2d7df7aa&e=05e747ac44)
Warner/Chappell argued that the judge should reconsider this ruling or authorise an appeal, before US children’s charity ACEI intervened in the suit with new evidence. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage1.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=dd89c79c7d&e=05e747ac44)
There will, however, be no appeal, or trial investigating ACEI’s claims, because Warner/Chappell has chosen to settle. As a result, Happy Birthday will soon belong to everyone. (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=2c9f712872&e=05e747ac44)
A spokesperson for Warner/Chappell told MBW: “While we respectfully disagreed with the Court’s decision, we are pleased to have now resolved this matter.” (http://musicbizworldwide.us9.list-manage.com/track/click?u=1cea3abb6ec1d881feba0c654&id=1ff4387325&e=05e747ac44)
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Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
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Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Record Collecting: Everything You Wanted To Know But Were Afraid To Ask….Part 9: How Was Vinyl Invented? | eil.com
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
** Record Collecting: Everything You Wanted To Know But Were Afraid To Ask….Part 9: How Was Vinyl Invented?
————————————————————
by Tim Card (http://blog.eil.com/author/tim/)
Just recently you can’t seem to move for stories of vinyl’s resurgence, think fancy looking graphs with sales of vinyl pointing up, up, up, pictures of hipsters clutching LPs, men with beards rifling through the racks of a good ol’ fashioned record shop etc etc. With this in mind we thought we’d give you a little bluffers guide as to how the vinyl format came to be……
n 1888 a gentlemen named Emile Berliner invented the flat disc record. These very first discs were produced of a vulcanised rubber and were between 12.5cm and 18cm in diameter.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=Emile+Berliner+i&newwindow=1&safe=off&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjS6vjqmszJAhUKExoKHSU8Do4QsAQIKg&biw=1385&bih=741#imgrc=drS1x7UuJcFSnM%3A
Emile Berliner
https://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/gramophone/028011-3006.1-e.html
An example of an E. Berliner, Montreal brown disc
Later he discovered that a mixture of shellac (a secretion from the lac beetle) and slate dust produced an extremely hard wearing but very brittle surface and from this the 78rpm disc was developed. The slate dust was used because the older acoustic gramophones used steel needles with a pick-up weight of up to 200 grams and the slate helped grind the needle to fit the groove more closely. A modern record pick-up tracks at a recommended maximum of 7 grams. Most record players today can pick up a track at under 1 gram.
etween 1900 and 1960 the discs were usually 25 or 30cm across & gave between 2 and 5 minutes playing time each side. In the beginning sound was recorded with a horn attached to a diaphragm and stylus, which scratched out a trace in a rotating wax disc. This method lasted until 1925, when microphones became sufficiently developed to allow the recording of music.
http://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=397547
An early shellac 78 that we currently have in stock, this is by Adrian & His Tap Room Gang and was released in 1935! More info here (http://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=397547)
uring the Second World War records were sent from the USA to overseas POW camps to keep up prisoner morale. Due to their brittleness these were frequently broken in transit, so a new compound, vinyl, was born to give greater flexibility and reduce the likelihood of breakages. During the war years vinyl was a very expensive material but the special circumstances of war justified it’s use.
y 1948, Columbia Records had developed its 30cm Long Playing record, rotating at 33rpm and giving about 20-30 minutes a side which saw the downfall of shellac and vinyl was used from then on. Long-playing phonograph records may look the same now as when they were introduced in 1948, but countless refinements and developments within the industry have been made to perfect the long-playing record’s technical excellence and insure the best in sound reproduction and quality available in recorded form.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?newwindow=1&safe=off&biw=1385&bih=701&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=1948+coloumbia+vinyl+record&oq=1948+coloumbia+vinyl+record&gs_l=img.3…315929.321537.0.321755.27.27.0.0.0.0.166.2197.24j3.27.0….0…1c.1.64.img..18.9.806.REhBtIWXxSU#imgrc=g3VUzB1LuMtzOM%3A
Great 1948 Columbia advert introducing ‘the long playing micro groove record’…..
year later the first 45rpm disc was produced by RCA, 18cm in diameter and giving about 3 minutes a side. No better than the 78 for playing time, but ideal for pop record companies and juke box manufacturers! The 45 was light, compact, sounded much better than the 78 and was less prone to getting broken. 1958 saw the arrival of stereo records although unsuccesful experiments with two channel sound had been going on since before the First World War. This pleased those first “collectors” but irritated the retailers who had to keep dual stocks of LPs in mono and stereo and of course, the record companies had to prepare separate mono and stereo mixed versions of the LPs to start with. Stereo was generally only used for LPs up until about 1970, when pop singles began to appear in stereo versions so by this time the mono LP became a thing of the past.
http://www.45-rpm.org.uk/history.html
Here is what RCA Victor’s original 45 looked like. Note the large centre hole which needs an adaptor to make it fit a regular UK style spindle. Also note that coloured vinyl was not such a novelty in the 1940s! This image and text is from 45-rpm.org.co.uk
n the late 1950s some companies experimented with a 16rpm speed originally intended for ‘talking books’ but was also used for music LPs in Eastern Europe and Africa. An American company also produced an 8rpm discs in the early 1970s for talking books for the blind. The 12″ single made it’s first appearance in 1975 and was only ‘discovered’ by mistake, top disco remixer Tom Moulton would regularly make 7″ test pressings of mixes he was working on, these would be supplied to the top DJ’s of the era in order to gauge how they worked on the dancefloor. However, one fateful night the studio was out of 7″ acetates and so he used a 12″ acetate, the response he got from the DJ’s was incredible, all reported a much better sound quality and overall volume. The 12″ single also makes the most of the best features of the 33 and 45rpm formats by offering a reasonable playing time (up to 12 mins/side) at a greatly enhanced volume and frequency response. EMI produceed a short run of
classical LPs on this format in the early 1980s.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?newwindow=1&safe=off&biw=1385&bih=701&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=double+exposure+ten+percent+12%22+vinyl&oq=double+exposure+ten+percent+12%22+vinyl&gs_l=img.3…2115.4163.0.4530.10.10.0.0.0.0.95.809.10.10.0….0…1c.1.64.img..9.1.93.vBGDSCC8VmU#imgrc=w038O7ztNne07M%3A
Walter Gibbons stunning 9 minutes overhaul of Double Exposures ‘Ten Per Cent’ was one of the very first commercially available 12″ singles
espite the devastation caused to vinyl sales by the rapid rise in popularity of the CD, the format in recent years has undergone a complete renaissance with untold stories in the press and media about the growth in vinyl sales. Indeed if proof were needed consider supermarket giant Tesco’s recent announcment that they are to stock a ‘Top 20 Vinyl’ section in their supermarkets, you have to admit it’s an unlikely outcome for a format that to all intents and purposes was ‘dead’ ten years ago – Long may it continue that’s what we say!
If all that’s got you in a vinyl mood, why not check eil.com for a huge range of rare vinyl, reissues, new releases, imports and more, to see the full list please click here (http://eil.com/)
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
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Unsubscribe (http://jazzpromoservices.us2.list-manage.com/unsubscribe?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=911f90f0b1&e=[UNIQID]&c=b109382628) | Update your profile (http://jazzpromoservices.us2.list-manage.com/profile?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=911f90f0b1&e=[UNIQID]) | Forward to a friend (http://us2.forward-to-friend.com/forward?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=b109382628&e=[UNIQID])
PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE ON THIS MAILING LIST PLEASE RESPOND WITH ‘REMOVE’ IN THE SUBJECT LINE. IF YOU ARE RECEIVING DUPLICATE EMAILS OUR APOLOGIES, JAZZ PROMO SERVICES ANNOUNCEMENT LIST IS GROWING LARGER EVERY DAY…..PLEASE LET US KNOW AND WE WILL FIX IT IMMEDIATELY!
Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Record Collecting: Everything You Wanted To Know But Were Afraid To Ask….Part 9: How Was Vinyl Invented? | eil.com
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
** Record Collecting: Everything You Wanted To Know But Were Afraid To Ask….Part 9: How Was Vinyl Invented?
————————————————————
by Tim Card (http://blog.eil.com/author/tim/)
Just recently you can’t seem to move for stories of vinyl’s resurgence, think fancy looking graphs with sales of vinyl pointing up, up, up, pictures of hipsters clutching LPs, men with beards rifling through the racks of a good ol’ fashioned record shop etc etc. With this in mind we thought we’d give you a little bluffers guide as to how the vinyl format came to be……
n 1888 a gentlemen named Emile Berliner invented the flat disc record. These very first discs were produced of a vulcanised rubber and were between 12.5cm and 18cm in diameter.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=Emile+Berliner+i&newwindow=1&safe=off&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjS6vjqmszJAhUKExoKHSU8Do4QsAQIKg&biw=1385&bih=741#imgrc=drS1x7UuJcFSnM%3A
Emile Berliner
https://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/gramophone/028011-3006.1-e.html
An example of an E. Berliner, Montreal brown disc
Later he discovered that a mixture of shellac (a secretion from the lac beetle) and slate dust produced an extremely hard wearing but very brittle surface and from this the 78rpm disc was developed. The slate dust was used because the older acoustic gramophones used steel needles with a pick-up weight of up to 200 grams and the slate helped grind the needle to fit the groove more closely. A modern record pick-up tracks at a recommended maximum of 7 grams. Most record players today can pick up a track at under 1 gram.
etween 1900 and 1960 the discs were usually 25 or 30cm across & gave between 2 and 5 minutes playing time each side. In the beginning sound was recorded with a horn attached to a diaphragm and stylus, which scratched out a trace in a rotating wax disc. This method lasted until 1925, when microphones became sufficiently developed to allow the recording of music.
http://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=397547
An early shellac 78 that we currently have in stock, this is by Adrian & His Tap Room Gang and was released in 1935! More info here (http://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=397547)
uring the Second World War records were sent from the USA to overseas POW camps to keep up prisoner morale. Due to their brittleness these were frequently broken in transit, so a new compound, vinyl, was born to give greater flexibility and reduce the likelihood of breakages. During the war years vinyl was a very expensive material but the special circumstances of war justified it’s use.
y 1948, Columbia Records had developed its 30cm Long Playing record, rotating at 33rpm and giving about 20-30 minutes a side which saw the downfall of shellac and vinyl was used from then on. Long-playing phonograph records may look the same now as when they were introduced in 1948, but countless refinements and developments within the industry have been made to perfect the long-playing record’s technical excellence and insure the best in sound reproduction and quality available in recorded form.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?newwindow=1&safe=off&biw=1385&bih=701&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=1948+coloumbia+vinyl+record&oq=1948+coloumbia+vinyl+record&gs_l=img.3…315929.321537.0.321755.27.27.0.0.0.0.166.2197.24j3.27.0….0…1c.1.64.img..18.9.806.REhBtIWXxSU#imgrc=g3VUzB1LuMtzOM%3A
Great 1948 Columbia advert introducing ‘the long playing micro groove record’…..
year later the first 45rpm disc was produced by RCA, 18cm in diameter and giving about 3 minutes a side. No better than the 78 for playing time, but ideal for pop record companies and juke box manufacturers! The 45 was light, compact, sounded much better than the 78 and was less prone to getting broken. 1958 saw the arrival of stereo records although unsuccesful experiments with two channel sound had been going on since before the First World War. This pleased those first “collectors” but irritated the retailers who had to keep dual stocks of LPs in mono and stereo and of course, the record companies had to prepare separate mono and stereo mixed versions of the LPs to start with. Stereo was generally only used for LPs up until about 1970, when pop singles began to appear in stereo versions so by this time the mono LP became a thing of the past.
http://www.45-rpm.org.uk/history.html
Here is what RCA Victor’s original 45 looked like. Note the large centre hole which needs an adaptor to make it fit a regular UK style spindle. Also note that coloured vinyl was not such a novelty in the 1940s! This image and text is from 45-rpm.org.co.uk
n the late 1950s some companies experimented with a 16rpm speed originally intended for ‘talking books’ but was also used for music LPs in Eastern Europe and Africa. An American company also produced an 8rpm discs in the early 1970s for talking books for the blind. The 12″ single made it’s first appearance in 1975 and was only ‘discovered’ by mistake, top disco remixer Tom Moulton would regularly make 7″ test pressings of mixes he was working on, these would be supplied to the top DJ’s of the era in order to gauge how they worked on the dancefloor. However, one fateful night the studio was out of 7″ acetates and so he used a 12″ acetate, the response he got from the DJ’s was incredible, all reported a much better sound quality and overall volume. The 12″ single also makes the most of the best features of the 33 and 45rpm formats by offering a reasonable playing time (up to 12 mins/side) at a greatly enhanced volume and frequency response. EMI produceed a short run of
classical LPs on this format in the early 1980s.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?newwindow=1&safe=off&biw=1385&bih=701&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=double+exposure+ten+percent+12%22+vinyl&oq=double+exposure+ten+percent+12%22+vinyl&gs_l=img.3…2115.4163.0.4530.10.10.0.0.0.0.95.809.10.10.0….0…1c.1.64.img..9.1.93.vBGDSCC8VmU#imgrc=w038O7ztNne07M%3A
Walter Gibbons stunning 9 minutes overhaul of Double Exposures ‘Ten Per Cent’ was one of the very first commercially available 12″ singles
espite the devastation caused to vinyl sales by the rapid rise in popularity of the CD, the format in recent years has undergone a complete renaissance with untold stories in the press and media about the growth in vinyl sales. Indeed if proof were needed consider supermarket giant Tesco’s recent announcment that they are to stock a ‘Top 20 Vinyl’ section in their supermarkets, you have to admit it’s an unlikely outcome for a format that to all intents and purposes was ‘dead’ ten years ago – Long may it continue that’s what we say!
If all that’s got you in a vinyl mood, why not check eil.com for a huge range of rare vinyl, reissues, new releases, imports and more, to see the full list please click here (http://eil.com/)
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
CHECK OUT OUR NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDvUe6fkNLU)
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269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Record Collecting: Everything You Wanted To Know But Were Afraid To Ask….Part 9: How Was Vinyl Invented? | eil.com
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
** Record Collecting: Everything You Wanted To Know But Were Afraid To Ask….Part 9: How Was Vinyl Invented?
————————————————————
by Tim Card (http://blog.eil.com/author/tim/)
Just recently you can’t seem to move for stories of vinyl’s resurgence, think fancy looking graphs with sales of vinyl pointing up, up, up, pictures of hipsters clutching LPs, men with beards rifling through the racks of a good ol’ fashioned record shop etc etc. With this in mind we thought we’d give you a little bluffers guide as to how the vinyl format came to be……
n 1888 a gentlemen named Emile Berliner invented the flat disc record. These very first discs were produced of a vulcanised rubber and were between 12.5cm and 18cm in diameter.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=Emile+Berliner+i&newwindow=1&safe=off&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjS6vjqmszJAhUKExoKHSU8Do4QsAQIKg&biw=1385&bih=741#imgrc=drS1x7UuJcFSnM%3A
Emile Berliner
https://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/gramophone/028011-3006.1-e.html
An example of an E. Berliner, Montreal brown disc
Later he discovered that a mixture of shellac (a secretion from the lac beetle) and slate dust produced an extremely hard wearing but very brittle surface and from this the 78rpm disc was developed. The slate dust was used because the older acoustic gramophones used steel needles with a pick-up weight of up to 200 grams and the slate helped grind the needle to fit the groove more closely. A modern record pick-up tracks at a recommended maximum of 7 grams. Most record players today can pick up a track at under 1 gram.
etween 1900 and 1960 the discs were usually 25 or 30cm across & gave between 2 and 5 minutes playing time each side. In the beginning sound was recorded with a horn attached to a diaphragm and stylus, which scratched out a trace in a rotating wax disc. This method lasted until 1925, when microphones became sufficiently developed to allow the recording of music.
http://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=397547
An early shellac 78 that we currently have in stock, this is by Adrian & His Tap Room Gang and was released in 1935! More info here (http://eil.com/shop/moreinfo.asp?catalogid=397547)
uring the Second World War records were sent from the USA to overseas POW camps to keep up prisoner morale. Due to their brittleness these were frequently broken in transit, so a new compound, vinyl, was born to give greater flexibility and reduce the likelihood of breakages. During the war years vinyl was a very expensive material but the special circumstances of war justified it’s use.
y 1948, Columbia Records had developed its 30cm Long Playing record, rotating at 33rpm and giving about 20-30 minutes a side which saw the downfall of shellac and vinyl was used from then on. Long-playing phonograph records may look the same now as when they were introduced in 1948, but countless refinements and developments within the industry have been made to perfect the long-playing record’s technical excellence and insure the best in sound reproduction and quality available in recorded form.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?newwindow=1&safe=off&biw=1385&bih=701&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=1948+coloumbia+vinyl+record&oq=1948+coloumbia+vinyl+record&gs_l=img.3…315929.321537.0.321755.27.27.0.0.0.0.166.2197.24j3.27.0….0…1c.1.64.img..18.9.806.REhBtIWXxSU#imgrc=g3VUzB1LuMtzOM%3A
Great 1948 Columbia advert introducing ‘the long playing micro groove record’…..
year later the first 45rpm disc was produced by RCA, 18cm in diameter and giving about 3 minutes a side. No better than the 78 for playing time, but ideal for pop record companies and juke box manufacturers! The 45 was light, compact, sounded much better than the 78 and was less prone to getting broken. 1958 saw the arrival of stereo records although unsuccesful experiments with two channel sound had been going on since before the First World War. This pleased those first “collectors” but irritated the retailers who had to keep dual stocks of LPs in mono and stereo and of course, the record companies had to prepare separate mono and stereo mixed versions of the LPs to start with. Stereo was generally only used for LPs up until about 1970, when pop singles began to appear in stereo versions so by this time the mono LP became a thing of the past.
http://www.45-rpm.org.uk/history.html
Here is what RCA Victor’s original 45 looked like. Note the large centre hole which needs an adaptor to make it fit a regular UK style spindle. Also note that coloured vinyl was not such a novelty in the 1940s! This image and text is from 45-rpm.org.co.uk
n the late 1950s some companies experimented with a 16rpm speed originally intended for ‘talking books’ but was also used for music LPs in Eastern Europe and Africa. An American company also produced an 8rpm discs in the early 1970s for talking books for the blind. The 12″ single made it’s first appearance in 1975 and was only ‘discovered’ by mistake, top disco remixer Tom Moulton would regularly make 7″ test pressings of mixes he was working on, these would be supplied to the top DJ’s of the era in order to gauge how they worked on the dancefloor. However, one fateful night the studio was out of 7″ acetates and so he used a 12″ acetate, the response he got from the DJ’s was incredible, all reported a much better sound quality and overall volume. The 12″ single also makes the most of the best features of the 33 and 45rpm formats by offering a reasonable playing time (up to 12 mins/side) at a greatly enhanced volume and frequency response. EMI produceed a short run of
classical LPs on this format in the early 1980s.
https://www.google.co.uk/search?newwindow=1&safe=off&biw=1385&bih=701&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=double+exposure+ten+percent+12%22+vinyl&oq=double+exposure+ten+percent+12%22+vinyl&gs_l=img.3…2115.4163.0.4530.10.10.0.0.0.0.95.809.10.10.0….0…1c.1.64.img..9.1.93.vBGDSCC8VmU#imgrc=w038O7ztNne07M%3A
Walter Gibbons stunning 9 minutes overhaul of Double Exposures ‘Ten Per Cent’ was one of the very first commercially available 12″ singles
espite the devastation caused to vinyl sales by the rapid rise in popularity of the CD, the format in recent years has undergone a complete renaissance with untold stories in the press and media about the growth in vinyl sales. Indeed if proof were needed consider supermarket giant Tesco’s recent announcment that they are to stock a ‘Top 20 Vinyl’ section in their supermarkets, you have to admit it’s an unlikely outcome for a format that to all intents and purposes was ‘dead’ ten years ago – Long may it continue that’s what we say!
If all that’s got you in a vinyl mood, why not check eil.com for a huge range of rare vinyl, reissues, new releases, imports and more, to see the full list please click here (http://eil.com/)
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
CHECK OUT OUR NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDvUe6fkNLU)
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Sunday 12/13 – Closing Reception Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
Closing Reception
View this email in your browser (http://us11.campaign-archive2.com/?u=b56fe74e0990eb4c3d896cb53&id=9d97dfdb20&e=abd825ba82)
Jazz, Jews and African Americans:
Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
Closing Reception
Sunday, December 13 at 2pm
Jewish Museum of New Jersey at Congregation Ahavas Sholom
145 Broadway, Newark
No admission charge
WBGO Jazz 88.3FM presents the closing reception of Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond, featuring pianist, writer and sociologist Ben Sidran in Jews, Music and the American Dream. Accompanying himself on piano, Sidran explores the relationship of blacks and Jews in the music business throughout the 20th century. He is the author of There Was a Fire: Jews, Music and the American Dream and Talking Jazz.
Register here (http://rutgers.us11.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=b56fe74e0990eb4c3d896cb53&id=8ccc898dfb&e=abd825ba82)
The events have been produced by the Institute of Jazz Studies, Rutgers University-Newark; New Jersey Performing Arts Center; the Jewish Museum of New Jersey at Congregation Ahavas Sholom; and WBGO Jazz 88.3 FM. Cultural Partners include Congregation Ahavas Sholom; Clinton Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church; Iglesia El Sembrador; Mount Zion Baptist Church; the Newark Arts Council; New Jersey City University; and Project Life of N.J.
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Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Sunday 12/13 – Closing Reception Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
Closing Reception
View this email in your browser (http://us11.campaign-archive2.com/?u=b56fe74e0990eb4c3d896cb53&id=9d97dfdb20&e=abd825ba82)
Jazz, Jews and African Americans:
Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
Closing Reception
Sunday, December 13 at 2pm
Jewish Museum of New Jersey at Congregation Ahavas Sholom
145 Broadway, Newark
No admission charge
WBGO Jazz 88.3FM presents the closing reception of Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond, featuring pianist, writer and sociologist Ben Sidran in Jews, Music and the American Dream. Accompanying himself on piano, Sidran explores the relationship of blacks and Jews in the music business throughout the 20th century. He is the author of There Was a Fire: Jews, Music and the American Dream and Talking Jazz.
Register here (http://rutgers.us11.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=b56fe74e0990eb4c3d896cb53&id=8ccc898dfb&e=abd825ba82)
The events have been produced by the Institute of Jazz Studies, Rutgers University-Newark; New Jersey Performing Arts Center; the Jewish Museum of New Jersey at Congregation Ahavas Sholom; and WBGO Jazz 88.3 FM. Cultural Partners include Congregation Ahavas Sholom; Clinton Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church; Iglesia El Sembrador; Mount Zion Baptist Church; the Newark Arts Council; New Jersey City University; and Project Life of N.J.
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Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
CHECK OUT OUR NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDvUe6fkNLU)
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Sunday 12/13 – Closing Reception Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
Closing Reception
View this email in your browser (http://us11.campaign-archive2.com/?u=b56fe74e0990eb4c3d896cb53&id=9d97dfdb20&e=abd825ba82)
Jazz, Jews and African Americans:
Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond
Closing Reception
Sunday, December 13 at 2pm
Jewish Museum of New Jersey at Congregation Ahavas Sholom
145 Broadway, Newark
No admission charge
WBGO Jazz 88.3FM presents the closing reception of Jazz, Jews and African Americans: Cultural Intersections in Newark and Beyond, featuring pianist, writer and sociologist Ben Sidran in Jews, Music and the American Dream. Accompanying himself on piano, Sidran explores the relationship of blacks and Jews in the music business throughout the 20th century. He is the author of There Was a Fire: Jews, Music and the American Dream and Talking Jazz.
Register here (http://rutgers.us11.list-manage2.com/track/click?u=b56fe74e0990eb4c3d896cb53&id=8ccc898dfb&e=abd825ba82)
The events have been produced by the Institute of Jazz Studies, Rutgers University-Newark; New Jersey Performing Arts Center; the Jewish Museum of New Jersey at Congregation Ahavas Sholom; and WBGO Jazz 88.3 FM. Cultural Partners include Congregation Ahavas Sholom; Clinton Memorial A.M.E. Zion Church; Iglesia El Sembrador; Mount Zion Baptist Church; the Newark Arts Council; New Jersey City University; and Project Life of N.J.
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Copyright © 2015 Institute of Jazz Studies – Rutgers University – Newark, All rights reserved.
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185 University Ave
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Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
CHECK OUT OUR NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDvUe6fkNLU)
Unsubscribe (http://jazzpromoservices.us2.list-manage.com/unsubscribe?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=911f90f0b1&e=[UNIQID]&c=16cfc74431) | Update your profile (http://jazzpromoservices.us2.list-manage.com/profile?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=911f90f0b1&e=[UNIQID]) | Forward to a friend (http://us2.forward-to-friend.com/forward?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=16cfc74431&e=[UNIQID])
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Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA
Pete Seeger’s Rainbow Quest – Mamou Cajun Band (Full Episode) – YouTube
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkPmTzjIr2s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkPmTzjIr2s
Atlantic Magazine
** Rainbow Quest (http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/01/-em-rainbow-quest-em-pete-seegers-strange-magical-1960s-tv-show/283406/) : Pete Seeger’s Strange, Magical 1960s TV Show (http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/01/-em-rainbow-quest-em-pete-seegers-strange-magical-1960s-tv-show/283406/)
————————————————————
The ultra-collaborative folksinger wasn’t quite sure what to make of the television medium. But for a brief period, he made it entirely his own.
** Rainbow Quest: Pete Seeger’s Strange, Magical 1960s TV Show
————————————————————
* JENNIE ROTHENBERG GRITZ (http://www.theatlantic.com/author/jennie-rothenberg-gritz/)
*
* JAN 28, 2014
*
A member of the Mamou Cajun Band takes a break from his Rainbow Quest set to show Seeger a photo of his children.
“What’s good about folk music,” wrote Pete Seeger in a 1974 issue of Sing Out! (http://singout.org/magazine.html) magazine, “is that it is not show business. … It should be the fiddle or guitar, bongo drum or harmonica that’s brought out after supper dishes are cleared away and families make their own music, rather than switching on the magic screen.”
But for a brief period in the mid-1960s, Seeger hosted his own program on the “magic screen.” The show was called Rainbow Quest (named after a line in one of Seeger’s songs (http://www.peteseeger.net/goldthred.htm) ). Despite the colorful title, it was filmed in black and white, in a New Jersey studio with no audience, and broadcast over a Spanish-language UHF station. Seeger’s wife, Toshi, was listed in the credits as “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer.”
Even with this bare-bones production, Seeger clearly found the new medium disorienting. “You know, I’m like a blind man, looking out through this little magic screen,” he said at the start of the first episode, gazing awkwardly into the camera. “And I—I don’t know if you see me. I know I can’t see you.” Over the next 10 minutes, he alternated between noodling gorgeously on his banjo and explaining his distrust of the “little box” that sat in every American living room, killing ambition, romance, and human interaction.
But then he started talking about Huddie Ledbetter and giving his invisible audience an impromptu 12-string guitar lesson. And then the Clancy Brothers showed up in their big woolly sweaters and performed a rousing set of Irish tunes. At that point, Seeger seemed to settle into his comfort zone—a natural state of admiration and delight.
That joyful expression stayed on Seeger’s face through most of the show’s 39 episodes. Seeger particularly liked to quiz the musicians on their apparatus. “You’ve got a strange instrument here. I don’t think I can hold my curiosity any longer,” he told the indigenous Canadian singer Buffy St. Marie, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkWMC2zS1fU) who happily explained how her traditional mouth bow had evolved out of a hunting weapon.
In another episode, Seeger brought together two unlikely performers: the blind 70-year-old blues musician Reverend Gary Davis and the 19-year-old Scottish flower child Donovan. After a couple of songs, Seeger asked Donovan’s accompanist, Shawn Phillips, to show Davis how his sitar worked. “Hold it up closer so he can feel it,” Seeger instructed, and then watched the interaction with obvious amusement.
At some point in every episode, Seeger would lean forward, as if unable to restrain himself, and ask whether he could play along. He joined in as respectfully as he sat back—picking out chords as Johnny Cash crooned (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDBtrzka2X4) , harmonizing as Judy Collins took the lead. After Collins performed “Turn, Turn, Turn”—a song Seeger himself had written—he responded with simple appreciation: “Gee, how proud that makes me.”
Rainbow Quest didn’t last long. Its single season ran again on public television a few years later, and in the 1980s a few thousand copies came out on VHS. But thanks to YouTube, many of the episodes are now available online, and every one of them is well worth watching. The show may have been a fleeting and ambivalent experiment in Seeger’s long life. But it represents the very best of both the man and the medium. Through his signature combination of charisma and humility, he managed to turn television into something collaborative. When Pete Seeger was in front of the camera, the “magic screen” became truly magical.
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
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Pete Seeger’s Rainbow Quest – Mamou Cajun Band (Full Episode) – YouTube
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Atlantic Magazine
** Rainbow Quest (http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/01/-em-rainbow-quest-em-pete-seegers-strange-magical-1960s-tv-show/283406/) : Pete Seeger’s Strange, Magical 1960s TV Show (http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/01/-em-rainbow-quest-em-pete-seegers-strange-magical-1960s-tv-show/283406/)
————————————————————
The ultra-collaborative folksinger wasn’t quite sure what to make of the television medium. But for a brief period, he made it entirely his own.
** Rainbow Quest: Pete Seeger’s Strange, Magical 1960s TV Show
————————————————————
* JENNIE ROTHENBERG GRITZ (http://www.theatlantic.com/author/jennie-rothenberg-gritz/)
*
* JAN 28, 2014
*
A member of the Mamou Cajun Band takes a break from his Rainbow Quest set to show Seeger a photo of his children.
“What’s good about folk music,” wrote Pete Seeger in a 1974 issue of Sing Out! (http://singout.org/magazine.html) magazine, “is that it is not show business. … It should be the fiddle or guitar, bongo drum or harmonica that’s brought out after supper dishes are cleared away and families make their own music, rather than switching on the magic screen.”
But for a brief period in the mid-1960s, Seeger hosted his own program on the “magic screen.” The show was called Rainbow Quest (named after a line in one of Seeger’s songs (http://www.peteseeger.net/goldthred.htm) ). Despite the colorful title, it was filmed in black and white, in a New Jersey studio with no audience, and broadcast over a Spanish-language UHF station. Seeger’s wife, Toshi, was listed in the credits as “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer.”
Even with this bare-bones production, Seeger clearly found the new medium disorienting. “You know, I’m like a blind man, looking out through this little magic screen,” he said at the start of the first episode, gazing awkwardly into the camera. “And I—I don’t know if you see me. I know I can’t see you.” Over the next 10 minutes, he alternated between noodling gorgeously on his banjo and explaining his distrust of the “little box” that sat in every American living room, killing ambition, romance, and human interaction.
But then he started talking about Huddie Ledbetter and giving his invisible audience an impromptu 12-string guitar lesson. And then the Clancy Brothers showed up in their big woolly sweaters and performed a rousing set of Irish tunes. At that point, Seeger seemed to settle into his comfort zone—a natural state of admiration and delight.
That joyful expression stayed on Seeger’s face through most of the show’s 39 episodes. Seeger particularly liked to quiz the musicians on their apparatus. “You’ve got a strange instrument here. I don’t think I can hold my curiosity any longer,” he told the indigenous Canadian singer Buffy St. Marie, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkWMC2zS1fU) who happily explained how her traditional mouth bow had evolved out of a hunting weapon.
In another episode, Seeger brought together two unlikely performers: the blind 70-year-old blues musician Reverend Gary Davis and the 19-year-old Scottish flower child Donovan. After a couple of songs, Seeger asked Donovan’s accompanist, Shawn Phillips, to show Davis how his sitar worked. “Hold it up closer so he can feel it,” Seeger instructed, and then watched the interaction with obvious amusement.
At some point in every episode, Seeger would lean forward, as if unable to restrain himself, and ask whether he could play along. He joined in as respectfully as he sat back—picking out chords as Johnny Cash crooned (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDBtrzka2X4) , harmonizing as Judy Collins took the lead. After Collins performed “Turn, Turn, Turn”—a song Seeger himself had written—he responded with simple appreciation: “Gee, how proud that makes me.”
Rainbow Quest didn’t last long. Its single season ran again on public television a few years later, and in the 1980s a few thousand copies came out on VHS. But thanks to YouTube, many of the episodes are now available online, and every one of them is well worth watching. The show may have been a fleeting and ambivalent experiment in Seeger’s long life. But it represents the very best of both the man and the medium. Through his signature combination of charisma and humility, he managed to turn television into something collaborative. When Pete Seeger was in front of the camera, the “magic screen” became truly magical.
Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services T: 845-986-1677 E-Mail: j (mailto:jazzpromo@earthlink.net) im@jazzpromoservices.com (mailto:jim@jazzpromoservices.com)
http://www.jazzpromoservices.com (http://www.jazzpromoservices.com/)
HAVE A JAZZ EVENT, NEW CD OR IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE JAZZ COMMUNITY YOU WANT TO PROMOTE? CONTACT JAZZ PROMO SERVICES FOR PRICE QUOTE.
CHECK OUT OUR NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDvUe6fkNLU)
Unsubscribe (http://jazzpromoservices.us2.list-manage.com/unsubscribe?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=911f90f0b1&e=[UNIQID]&c=6a62f63792) | Update your profile (http://jazzpromoservices.us2.list-manage.com/profile?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=911f90f0b1&e=[UNIQID]) | Forward to a friend (http://us2.forward-to-friend.com/forward?u=3186fe64133adb244b1010be2&id=6a62f63792&e=[UNIQID])
PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE ON THIS MAILING LIST PLEASE RESPOND WITH ‘REMOVE’ IN THE SUBJECT LINE. IF YOU ARE RECEIVING DUPLICATE EMAILS OUR APOLOGIES, JAZZ PROMO SERVICES ANNOUNCEMENT LIST IS GROWING LARGER EVERY DAY…..PLEASE LET US KNOW AND WE WILL FIX IT IMMEDIATELY!
Copyright (C) 2015 All rights reserved.
Jazz Promo Services
269 State Route 94 South
Warwick, Ny 10990
USA