ON JAZZ: A PERSONAL JOURNEY
Alyn Shipton
Alyn Shipton
Cambridge University Press (2022)
ISBN 978-1-108-83423-0
£20.00
Where to start? Why not start with the index? The catholicity of Shipton’s enthusiasms is impressive. However, it poses the question: ‘Where does his heart lie?’ A question that the reader can eventually answer. However, there are some startling omissions in the coverage of the book: the Brotherhood of Breath, Gil Evans, Tubby Hayes, Keith Jarrett.
Shipton has an important place in UK Jazz, working as publisher and broadcaster at the BBC. Amassing an archive of over one thousand interviews, he has used his contacts gathered over the years well. The book is the evidence of that.
In some ways it is a strange book: a mixture of autobiography, reminiscence, a collection of interviews. Shipton, by his own account, is an average bass player but he does present himself as a working musician. At the beginning, his heart was in an older jazz. The opening chapters are a hymn to Englishness: interviews with people who love old Rovers, Ken Colyer, sousaphones, Thea Musgrave, Rudyard Kipling, May Balls and Henley Regatta.
The book has a structure that seems spontaneous but is obviously deliberately arranged to give that effect, passages are linked tangentially. The Basie chapter begins with Buddy Tate, detours to George Shearing, has a section on Lionel Hampton and Freddie Kohlman. ‘Before returning to Basie’ Shipton writes and introduces another distraction about Evelyn McKee. There is a reminiscence from drummer Butch Miles about his predecessor Sonny Payne. Carmen Bradford describes at length how she acquired the Basie job. And off it goes, with more anecdotes, all vaguely Basie related.
The Ellington chapter is similar, morphing from Bennie Powell to Clark Terry to Jimmy Woode to George Avakian to Louis Bellson and culminating in the recording of the 1956 Newport Jazz Festival and the Paul Gonsalves solo. Shipton spends some time arguing with the widely held critical belief that the early fifties Ellington band was in decline.
Clearly, Shipton has the gift of making friends and throughout the book he relates the times he has visited the homes of people: George Melly, Danny Barker, John McLaughlin. Although readers might wonder if the detailed description of the car accident in the south of France on the way to interview McLaughlin could have been shortened or even omitted.
‘A Taste of Freedom’ is the most intriguing chapter in the book. It could well have been labelled ‘Ornette Coleman’ because Ornette is the subject, starting with his encounter in Paris with philosopher Jacques Derrida. The material about Ornette, Charlie Haden and Paul Bley at the Hillcrest Club in 1958 up to Ornette’s Meltdown festival at the Festival Hall in London and his duet with Joachim Kuhn is probably the best succinct account of Coleman’s work anywhere.
There are holes. There is nothing about the South African jazz diaspora which had an important impact on jazz in the UK and the continent. Ronnie Scott has one mention and that is the man not the club, even though the club has hosted many of the major figures of jazz and has had a considerable impact on UK jazz. Shipton has worked closely with the BBC over the years, but he has nothing to say about the disgraceful coverage of jazz in recent years.
The editing of a text with so many passages of direct speech can cause problem for the reader. It is essential to separate the words of the author from the stories of the interviewees. Dates are important.
There is some criticism in the book. Comment about Miles Davis’ later period is outsourced to Mike Gibbs. Critical comments on George Mraz are laid squarely on Oscar Peterson. There is a jibe about the writer Stanley Dance. Shipton says that Dance, ‘Has little critical to say about anyone’. The same charge could be levelled on Shipton. In the case of Dance, it is not true. Admittedly, Dance’s critical faculties could desert him on the subject of Ellington but he could be highly critical of musicians who had moved too far from the mainstream.
As a favour to Alyn Shipton, George Melly and John Chilton read the manuscript of Ken Colyer’s book, ‘When Dreams are in the Dust’. Their verdict was: ‘This is undoubtedly the definitive book on the art of peeling potatoes in the Merchant Navy, but as a book about jazz it leaves rather a lot to be desired.’ I am sure that they would value and not dismiss this book.
Reviewed by Jack Kenny
ISBN 978-1-108-83423-0
£20.00
Where to start? Why not start with the index? The catholicity of Shipton’s enthusiasms is impressive. However, it poses the question: ‘Where does his heart lie?’ A question that the reader can eventually answer. However, there are some startling omissions in the coverage of the book: the Brotherhood of Breath, Gil Evans, Tubby Hayes, Keith Jarrett.
Shipton has an important place in UK Jazz, working as publisher and broadcaster at the BBC. Amassing an archive of over one thousand interviews, he has used his contacts gathered over the years well. The book is the evidence of that.
In some ways it is a strange book: a mixture of autobiography, reminiscence, a collection of interviews. Shipton, by his own account, is an average bass player but he does present himself as a working musician. At the beginning, his heart was in an older jazz. The opening chapters are a hymn to Englishness: interviews with people who love old Rovers, Ken Colyer, sousaphones, Thea Musgrave, Rudyard Kipling, May Balls and Henley Regatta.
The book has a structure that seems spontaneous but is obviously deliberately arranged to give that effect, passages are linked tangentially. The Basie chapter begins with Buddy Tate, detours to George Shearing, has a section on Lionel Hampton and Freddie Kohlman. ‘Before returning to Basie’ Shipton writes and introduces another distraction about Evelyn McKee. There is a reminiscence from drummer Butch Miles about his predecessor Sonny Payne. Carmen Bradford describes at length how she acquired the Basie job. And off it goes, with more anecdotes, all vaguely Basie related.
The Ellington chapter is similar, morphing from Bennie Powell to Clark Terry to Jimmy Woode to George Avakian to Louis Bellson and culminating in the recording of the 1956 Newport Jazz Festival and the Paul Gonsalves solo. Shipton spends some time arguing with the widely held critical belief that the early fifties Ellington band was in decline.
Clearly, Shipton has the gift of making friends and throughout the book he relates the times he has visited the homes of people: George Melly, Danny Barker, John McLaughlin. Although readers might wonder if the detailed description of the car accident in the south of France on the way to interview McLaughlin could have been shortened or even omitted.
‘A Taste of Freedom’ is the most intriguing chapter in the book. It could well have been labelled ‘Ornette Coleman’ because Ornette is the subject, starting with his encounter in Paris with philosopher Jacques Derrida. The material about Ornette, Charlie Haden and Paul Bley at the Hillcrest Club in 1958 up to Ornette’s Meltdown festival at the Festival Hall in London and his duet with Joachim Kuhn is probably the best succinct account of Coleman’s work anywhere.
There are holes. There is nothing about the South African jazz diaspora which had an important impact on jazz in the UK and the continent. Ronnie Scott has one mention and that is the man not the club, even though the club has hosted many of the major figures of jazz and has had a considerable impact on UK jazz. Shipton has worked closely with the BBC over the years, but he has nothing to say about the disgraceful coverage of jazz in recent years.
The editing of a text with so many passages of direct speech can cause problem for the reader. It is essential to separate the words of the author from the stories of the interviewees. Dates are important.
There is some criticism in the book. Comment about Miles Davis’ later period is outsourced to Mike Gibbs. Critical comments on George Mraz are laid squarely on Oscar Peterson. There is a jibe about the writer Stanley Dance. Shipton says that Dance, ‘Has little critical to say about anyone’. The same charge could be levelled on Shipton. In the case of Dance, it is not true. Admittedly, Dance’s critical faculties could desert him on the subject of Ellington but he could be highly critical of musicians who had moved too far from the mainstream.
As a favour to Alyn Shipton, George Melly and John Chilton read the manuscript of Ken Colyer’s book, ‘When Dreams are in the Dust’. Their verdict was: ‘This is undoubtedly the definitive book on the art of peeling potatoes in the Merchant Navy, but as a book about jazz it leaves rather a lot to be desired.’ I am sure that they would value and not dismiss this book.
Reviewed by Jack Kenny
