Before I do though, I’d like to thank all the people who supported Bop and Beyond over the years, including the various radio stations that supported the program since its inception, particularly CJLO in Montreal where the show got its start; WRHO for temporarily hosting the program when it had no home; and WPIR where it lived its best life in terms of content and listenership. Thanks to all my loyal listeners all over the world, particularly Milo. I’d also like to thank WordPress for hosting this blog where Bop and Beyond found new life after going off the air and to all the people who read and commented on posts, spread the word, and linked to posts. Thank you!

Also, thanks to all the musicians, authors, and record label people who were so helpful to me over the years, particularly Scott Wenzel of Mosaic Records, Neal Sugarman of Daptone Records,  Sharon Jones (thanks for singing to me over the phone, babe!), Richard Davis, Ben Ratliff, Joseph Perez,  Robin D.G. Kelly (whose book on Thelonious Monk is the best jazz book I’ve ever read), and everyone at WKCR for answering my questions and exposing the world to such tremendous jazz.

Lastly, thanks to all the musicians everywhere who’ve made such timeless music. Jazz will never die even if it is time for Bop and Beyond to say goodbye. I’ll certainly miss doing the Crime Jazz Month features…

Speaking of which, those of you who’ll miss my writing, I’m still going to write crime (and other) film reviews for Movie Feast.

Readers! Thoughts?

Carmell Jones – trumpet; Barry Harris – piano; George Tucker – bass; Roger Humphries – drums / Riverside Records, 1965

Carmell Jones was a supremely underrated West Coast trumpeter, whose sideman work with Harold Land, Booker Ervin, and Horace Silver went largely unnoticed in his era. The Mosaic Records Select three-disc box set did a lot to remedy this. Not included was Jay Hawk Talk, a Riverside Date that I believe is Jones’s only gig as a leader. It is magnificent — funky where it needs to be, tender as well. His reading of “Willow Weep For Me” above is hauntingly beautiful, one of my favorite renditions.

Today would’ve been Carmell Jones’s 74th birthday. He died in 1996, a near total unknown. Many dazzling trumpeters from his era somehow never managed to break through, which is a shame really. I’d take Carmell Jones and Tommy Turrentine and Dupree Bolton and Louis Smith over many of their more famous peers and colleagues.

The fleeting rush of acquisition is a tantalizing drug. I have often fallen victim to it. To the delerium, the mania of constantly seeking new records, new knowledge, hearing how a player developed, who he played with, what sessions are available, what is rare and worth seeking. The greater the difficulty, the better the challenge, the greater the rush of attainment.

But where is the true satisfaction?

I love Don Byas to death. He is one of my all-time favorite tenor players. And when I realized this, I rushed out and got my hands on at least ten different sessions at once. I listen to them all casually for awhile but really only dedicated my ears to the Jazz In Paris series. Now I find myself wanting something new to hear from him when I have seven or eight good sessions sitting on  my hard drive that I’ve only ever listened to once or twice. Why aren’t they enough?

As I go through and listen and review these records that have sat unloved in my collection, I will grapple with these questions and see if I cannot tame the impulse to constantly collect, to still the mania, and dampen the diminishing returns that keep me constantly seeking for more.

The other night, I used my iTunes album tabulator to figure out how many jazz albums I had ripped to my hard drive over the years. The answer was an astonishing 276, many of which I’ve never given more than a cursory listen to. I was a bit surprised by the number. I knew I had accumulated a significant amount of jazz over the years (being forced to fill over two-to-three hours of jazz radio programming a week for five years will do that) but I had at least figured on having given most of it an ample listen. Unfortunately, that has not been the case. At least 100+ albums were probably ripped, enjoyed briefly while filling airtime, and then either forgotten or subsumed by other aural desires. Worse still, this figure doesn’t include all the jazz I own on vinyl — another 40-60 albums easy.

I want to listen to these records and give them the attention they deserve. Some of them will be revelatory. Some of them will be deletable. It’s time to separate the wheat from the chaff and hone my jazz collection to the bone.

Lately, I’ve felt like this blog has stalled. No longer being on the radio has slowly sapped the impetus out of blogging about jazz and I don’t want to be one of those blogs that merely filters YouTube content. I’d also burned out of jazz for awhile and found my listening attentions being soaked up by electronic music, film scores, and metal. I hadn’t reviewed a jazz record in over six months and couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was time to wind Bop and Beyond on down.

Then I got my hands on a magnificent Max Roach album and everything snapped back into place. Jazz had resurged.

So, in order to breath some new life into this blog and my jazz listening life, I am taking it upon myself to listen and review those under-loved jazz albums that have been sitting on my hard drive gathering metaphorical dust. To take them out for a spin with open ears and see how they hold up.

I’m told that 400+ jazz albums is nothing for someone with the true mania for jazz collecting. I feel like that hysteria for constant acquisition is fading out for me. I want to appreciate what I have without constantly needing to seek out new material.

Not that I will stop buying jazz. Just more considered purchases perhaps?

Rashied Ali — July 1st:

Rashied Ali – drums; Jaco Pastorius – bass / Continuum Records, 1984

Ahmad Jamal — July 2nd:

Ahmad Jamal – piano; Jamil Nasser – bass; Frank Grant – drums / Impulse Records, 1971

Lee Morgan — July 10th:

Lee Morgan – trumpet; Wayne Shorter – tenor sax; Grant Green – guitar; Herbie Hancock – piano; Bob Cranshaw – drums; Billy Higgins – drums / Blue Note Records, 1964

And Monday…

Paul Gonsalves — July 12th

Paul Gonsalves – tenor sax; Nat Adderley – cornet; Sam Jones – bass; Jimmy Cobb – drums / Riverside Records, 1960

Doug Watkins leads a rare session here for Transition Records:

Hank Mobley (tenor sax); Donald Byrd (trumpet); Kenny Burrell (guitar); Duke Jordan (piano); Doug Watkins (bass); Art Taylor (drums) / Transition Records, 1956

In another unusual session, Elvin Jones and Philly Joe Jones co-headline:

Hank Mobley (tenor sax); Blue Mitchell (trumpet); Curtis Fuller (trombone); Wynton Kelly (piano); Paul Chambers (bass); Elvin Jones (drums, left channel); Philly Joe Jones (drums, right channel) / Atlantic Records, 1961

Hank Mobley (tenor sax), Art Farmer (trumpet), Horace Silver (piano), Doug Watkins (bass), Art Blakey (drums) / Blue Note Records, 1957

Hank Mobley (tenor sax), Grant Green (guitar); Wynton Kelly (piano); Paul Chambers (bass); Philly Joe Jones (drums) / Blue Note Records, 1961

Hank Mobley (tenor sax),  Freddie Hubbard (trumpet), Wynton Kelly (piano), Paul Chambers (bass),  Art Blakey (drums) / Blue Note Records, 1960

24 hours of Louis Armstrong in celebration of Independence Day on WKCR radio, 89.9 FM in NYC or streaming here:

http://www.studentaffairs.columbia.edu/wkcr/story/louis-armstrong-birthday-broadcast-july-3rd-600-pm-july-5th-930-am

What’s more American than jazz?