Born William Grajonca before fleeing the Nazis and the Holocaust, Bill Graham was a maverick impresario who scratched and clawed his way to the top of rock’s heap and then fought just as hard to stay there until a helicopter crash took his life in 1991.
When he died, Graham was at once one of the most beloved and reviled people in the music business. For his vision, philanthropy and commitment, Graham was rightfully commended. But as the prototypical slick promoter who promised so much that anything delivered looked like a triumph, Graham probably had no equal. And, though he’d cringe at the thought, you can find the DNA of Graham’s formulaic business approach to rock music in today’s boy bands, Clear Channel’s radio “slotting,” and the enshrining of Dinosaur Rock as the barometer of all that matters.
Bill Graham Presents: My Life Inside Rock and Out (Da Capo, 576 pgs., $18.95) was the autobiography Graham was working on with co-author Robert Greenfield when he died. Available again after years out of print, the book is often mentioned as a touchstone for anyone interested in the history of that crazy kids’ music called rock & roll.
Debatable. If your interest in music begins and ends with the groups that got their start in the 60s and rode that gravy train on into the early 90s (and beyond) with countless past-their-prime or reunion tours — sure, this book’s got something for you. If you happen to find other eras just as fascinating (punk and new wave, for starters)…look elsewhere.
The book’s format presents another problem. Rather than switching to a biographic account of his larger than life subject after his death, Greenfield decided to tell Graham’s story via a composite format of the promoter’s own words interspersed with the memories of business associates, family, friends and all the usual suspect(s) “rock stars.” While the results flow relatively well, sections not entirely germane to the story go on seemingly forever, and the multitude of voices — with virtually no overriding narration — can be jolting and/or annoying.
Still, if your Mick Jagger fandom requires that you learn about his contract riders, or if that Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young reunion dynamic is of interest, Bill Graham Presents has the minutiae for you!
Blue Note — a label’s biography
Blue Note has long stood for excellence in jazz, and the story of Alfred Lion’s and Francis Wolff’s Little Label That Could has been recounted many times before. While Richard Cook’s Blue Note Records: The Biography (Justin, Charles & Co., 288 pgs., $14.99) serves as a strong primer for the novice, for long-time followers of the label’s illustrious history the book has some key deficiencies.
Cook, co-author of the vital Penguin Guide to Jazz, presents an overall picture of how Blue Note’s “mystique grew up, and how it endures,” tracing the company’s birth in 1939, its demise in the early 70s, as well as its rebirth — up to and including the financial success that eluded most of their releases until Norah Jones’ smash-hit debut. But with infirmity and death thinning the ranks of the few remaining giants and sidemen from Blue Note’s golden years, more in-depth interviews with some of the survivors would surely have enriched Cook’s otherwise readable narrative.
Cook does offer a cogent analysis of some of the key records to come out of the studio, from Sidney Bechet’s early sides, through the be-bop masterpieces that were Thelonius Monk’s first dates as a leader, to the countless versions of Art Blakey’s hard bop ambassadors, the Jazz Messengers, and the outward bound free jazz of Andrew Hill, Sam Rivers and Tony Williams, among others.
Hentoff — jazz master
Nat Hentoff is the first jazz critic ever named a Jazz Master by the National Endowment for the Arts — but his criticism hasn’t been limited to that one style of music. In his latest collection of essays, American Music Is (Da Capo, 320 pgs., $16.95), Hentoff writes about the blues, folk and what he calls “authentic country” — the music that Hank, Johnny and Merle built.
Of course he also writes about jazz; mostly that, in fact. The main reason Hentoff earned his NEA honor was because of his close relationship with some of jazz’ biggest names, including Dizzy Gillespie, Charles Mingus and Duke Ellington. He is, in fact, one of the few remaining jazz writers to have spoken personally with many of these now deceased artists, and his critiques reflect that essential contact.
And though he’s also made a mark as a rather cranky proponent of libertarianism (his defense of Bush nominee Judge Charles Pickering is off-putting, to say the least), Hentoff is famous for bridging the gaps between individuals in his interviews. He also writes like an angel in the more than 60 pieces included here, which certainly doesn’t hurt.
This article appears in Jun 23-29, 2004.
