100 books like Hear Me Talkin' to Ya

Terry Gibbs played vibes (vibraphone) with several of the most famous big bands during the Swing Era, than formed his own small groups, then led big bands himself starting in 1956. Steeped in Swing, he also held his own with the modernists. Perhaps his most amazing accomplishment was putting together his Dream Band, which recorded at least 68 selections, arranged by all the best arrangers in the business, in four different clubs in Hollywood, mostly in 1959. It was a 'dream band' because although the big band era was over, all the best musicians on the West Coast wanted to play in this one because the music was so much fun. Gibbs was in his 90s when his book came out; he knew how lucky he had been, and his book is full of joy and love.

Phil Woods left these acerbic notes behind when he died, his personality in every word, hard on himself as on anybody, also sometimes very funny. He was known for having married Charlie Parker's widow after Parker died, and for possessing Parker's alto sax, but Woods was such a master of the instrument that he became almost as influential as Parker. At a Billy Joel recording session in 1977, he casually tossed off a solo on "Just The Way You Are" that made the record a hit. He also recorded with Steely Dan and Paul Simon, toured the world with Quincy Jones, Russia with Benny Goodman, toured with his European Rhythm Machine, then with his own quintet for 20 years. The book has an elegiac tone because the incredibly rich mainstream jazz scene in New York that Woods had known in the 1950s-60s was gone forever.

By the time he became a producer of reissues for Verve Records, Pullman had been immersed in Bud Powell's life and recordings for decades, and produced the best life we have of one of the most important and prodigiously talented pianists who ever lived, and who was one of the inventors of modern jazz. Powell led a chaotic life, complicated by what we would now call a bipolar personality as well as addictions and mistreatment by the law, but Pullman captures it almost day by day, including the club gigs and recording sessions, without ever bogging down in pathos.

Back when jazz was popular and popular music was jazz, Andy Razaf was born in Washington DC, a member of the royal family of Madagascar: one source says his name was Andriamanantena Paul Rezafinkarefo, his father a nephew of Queen Ranavalona III. Andy became one of the most successful lyricists of his era. By the time he and Fats Waller co-wrote the black broadway show Hot Chocolates in 1929, Louis Armstrong singing "Ain't Misbehavin'" from the pit, he was at the top of his game. He and Waller wrote "Honeysuckle Rose", "Keepin' Out Of Mischief Now", "Blue, Turning Grey Over You", "The Joint Is Jumpin'", and more; in the early years, they would sell their lead sheets to as many publishers as they could, knowing that the publishers were cheats too. But Razaf also wrote with Eubie Blake ("You're Lucky To Me", "Memories Of You"), James P. Johnson ("A Porter's… show more.

My interest in music takes its roots deep into Louisiana because the first music was vocal.

Not only music but all literature had its beginnings in the words of history and folk songs. This book brought light into my young life. It was the beginning to understand American culture through its clearly defined early music. I carried various printings of Gumbo Ya-Ya with me through my early travels through Memphis, Louisiana, Como, Mississippi, etc. The book opened my mind to the history, and because of the book, the traveling opened my mind to the music.

I lived in Memphis during the early 1960. I visited the Sun Recording Studios at 706 Union Avenue, and then 639 Madison Avenue. Sam Phillips created Sun Records. He was the first person to record, Howlin’ Wolf, Ike Turner, B. B. King, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, /Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, and dozens of other musicians. Race didn’t matter to Sam, even though he lived and recorded in a deep, tough Jim Crow city.

Escott’s and Hawkins’ book captures the remarkable history of that small record label stuck in the depths of the time of mean southern roots. Vital book to dig into the creative, insightful mind of Sam Phillips, and his journey to bring rural, rough-hewed music to a wider, white audience.

Yes, the title is spelled correctly. I’ve known Stanley Booth from our days in Memphis. He has written about The Rolling Stones, B. B. King, Al Green, and Keith Richards. Keith wrote that “The interesting thing about music to me is that music has always seemed streaks ahead of any other Art form or any other form of social expression.” It has never been said any better.

Stanley Booth’s Rythm Oil contains studies of numerous, forgotten musicians and singers. It is a study of remote history. Stanley Booth doesn’t write with ink. He writes with grit.

Tight, vivid writing about the poorest people in America in the richest country in the world. There is dignity and warmth of two sons caring for their blind father, and there is God in also every life, for better or worse. I have to read this book at least once a year to remember what hard times and resolutions are. Every word seems to matter.

I love this book because it showcases the history of jazz and how it began in New Orleans. But what I love most of all is that the sounds of jazz instruments are included in the book.

Push the buttons, and you will hear drums. Push another button, a tuba—another, a trumpet, etc. I also heard singers scatting and singers improvising. Hearing the sounds of jazz brings the music to life.

The epic life of French jazz guitarist Django Reinhart deserves a Spielbergian biopic treatment. After the cart fire where he damaged his hand and the personal epiphany of hearing a Louis Armstrong record, the Gypsy guitarist would bring jazz to Europe with his near magical musical improvisations. He lived a wild, carefree life, full of big cars, large dreams, and sensual pleasures. When the Nazis took over Paris, he returned to his homeland, opened one of the city’s most dazzling nightclubs, and made hit records that flooded the French airwaves during the Occupation. When the war was over, his career went out like a light switch and Django repaired to a quiet life in a remote riverfront village, spending his time fishing and painting nudes.