Pitchers and catchers report in 99 days.

Baseball is the greatest game, and it's not even close. It NEVER stops surprising you.

“If they ask me, I could write a book…” Those cats are swinging! Well done sir!

New acquisition

1965, first pressing. Arrangements by Frank Foster, Billy Byers, Dick Hyman, Mort Garson.

🧵Jack and Al
I heard Jack DeJohnette live many times, but the first time I saw him in person he wasn’t performing. He was hanging out in the corner of a long-gone Greenwich Village club, Lush Life, checking out a trio gig by pianist Richie Beirach, bassist Charlie Haden, and drummer Al Foster.

Ray's nickname was "Floorshow." Here's why: www.youtube.com/watch?v=8xCx...

That's basically Cootie paraphrasing/riffing on Ray Nance's original improvised solo from 1941, which itself was worked out and codified over time.

The guitar and alto were in unison and Charlie and Jack were just laying down the beat nice and easy. The dry ping of Jack's cyrstalline ride cymbal in that moment remains one of my clearest sonic memories.

(I had not heard "Song X" before the concert.) But then the electronic carpet bombing stomped suddenly and out of the rumble, came the rest of the band, swinging beautifully at a human volume, playing Ornette's blues, "Turnaround."

Part 2

The first time I heard Jack DeJohnette live was w/ Pat Metheny and Ornette Coleman in 1986 in Urbana. The first sounds of the concert, a kind of overture, were a barrage of Denardo Coleman's electronic drums at an assaultive volume. I thought, "Shit, this is not gonna be what I had hoped."

So we're on the same page, which alternative melody exactly are you referencing?

H/T @natechinen.bsky.social for a kicker: On Jack’s first night in NYC he sat in at Minton's w/ Freddie Hubbard, whose drummer was (wait for it) Al Foster. Nate relays a passage from Jack’s oral history for the Smithsonian and imagines Foster being impressed and perhaps taken aback by the new kid.

Some losses are tougher than others, but losing Al and Jack within five months? Goddman. ... All I can say is that whoever is running this fucking circus better be taking damn good care of Billy Hart and Louis Hayes.

Al might opt for minimalism where Jack might choose a maximalist approach. These are just generalities, of course. The decision making of both drummers was both remarkably advanced and unpredictable. I never heard either make a bad choice on the bandstand.

It’s interesting to think about the similarities and differences between them. Both were first-rate colorists, masters of texture and dynamics, each able to strike a groove across a dizzying array of idioms. There was more pure bebop in Al’s DNA than in Jack’s.

Jack remains in a class by himself, partly because beyond his landmark work as a drummer, he was also an imposing bandleader, composer, conceptualist, and multi-instrumentalist. But Al also belongs in the top tier of post-bop drummers.

It's almost impossible to fathom how much aesthetic ground Jack covered during his career, how many diverse bands and recordings he defined with his creativity and unique sound, how many drummers he influenced.

That’s how great Jack DeJohnette was and how much respect he commanded from his peers. Now both Jack and Al are gone. They died almost exactly five months apart, Al at 82 on May 28 and Jack at 83 three days ago on the 26th.

Think for second about how brilliant Al Foster was, and how much he had accomplished by 1982. Only five months younger than Jack, Al was 39 and at the top of his game. Yet Jack’s presence at his gig had Al gushing like a 12-year-old who just saw his favorite baseball player in the flesh.

It was March 1982, and I was 18. On the break, my older brother crossed paths with Al at the sink in the men’s room. Without prompting, Al looked at my brother and said, excitedly, “Did you see Jack DeJohnette is in the club?! I’m so nervous! Jack is my idol!”

🧵Jack and Al
I heard Jack DeJohnette live many times, but the first time I saw him in person he wasn’t performing. He was hanging out in the corner of a long-gone Greenwich Village club, Lush Life, checking out a trio gig by pianist Richie Beirach, bassist Charlie Haden, and drummer Al Foster.

Nice! Hadn't read that, thanks.

🧵New Acquisition

Ralph Ellison ranks among my greatest heroes. His 1952 novel Invisible Man (and 1964 essay collection Shadow and Act) changed my life. I always wanted an early printing of a first edition of Invisible Man with a dust jacket, though a first printing is far out of my price range.

The fancy-schmancy, red leather binding with gold trim is certainly not my thing, but the book is signed by Ellison, as you can see, and thus proved irresistible.