[Dixielandjazz] JAZZ ME NEWS FOR MARCH 2003

Don Mopsick mophandl at landing.com
Mon Mar 3 01:09:31 PST 2003




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HAPPY 100TH BIRTHDAY, BIX! Cornetist Bix Beiderbecke was born 100 years ago
this month on March 10, 1903. His brilliant musical career lasted for only
about seven years, and he died of pneumonia at age 28. As a star soloist
with the Wolverines, and the orchestras of Jean Goldkette and Paul Whiteman,
he helped define hot jazz in the 1920s.

Bandleader and cornetist Jim Cullum has made a lifelong study of the
Beiderbecke musical legacy. Cullum recently visited Bix Beiderbecke's
hometown of Davenport, Iowa, and offers his reflections:

by Jim Cullum, Jr.

Eddie Condon was a clever man. He quipped about the boppers, "They flat
their fifths, we drink ours!" When his music was criticized by French jazz
writer Hughes Panassie, he shot back, "We don't tell him how to jump on a

But when he talked about Bix Beiderbecke, it was different. Eddie was one of
the musicians who had played with Bix. They all were forever his disciples.
Condon wrote about hearing Bix's cornet for the first time: "Beiderbecke
took out a silver cornet. He put it to his lips and blew a phrase. The sound
came out like a girl saying yes."

That Bix sound has been described by others as "a padded mallet striking a
chime" or "like pearls falling onto velvet." The sound of Bix's horn is
different. It's a "fat" sound, broader and less strident, darker and more
mellow than the others. At the same time, it is not just dark and mellow. It
has a hollow ring that sometimes reminds one of a bell. Often when he bears
down he gets a brass edge on the top of this. It is, for me, the most
beautiful musical sound I have yet encountered.

The strength of Bix's attack is a big part of his sound. He tends to tongue
more notes (i.e., starting the sound by pronouncing the letter "T") than
most cornet players. These tongued notes have little bursts that give the
"striking-a-chime effect." Over a period of almost 80 years, players have
attempted to figure out how he achieved these results. I have too. I have
chased this elusive Holy Grail for my entire life as a musician. Like many
other Bix-influenced players, I don't want to simply copy Bix. But I do
listen to the master playing in my head, and sometimes I work to see just
how fat the sound can get.

To a degree, Bix's magical tone was helped along by the equipment he used.
Much of his playing was on Conn Victor cornets. All the old Conns--reeds and
brass--were a little heavier and had rich tones, and the bore size of the
Victor Cornets was extraordinarily large. The standard bore size for cornets
and trumpets is 460 thousandths of an inch. The standard for large bore
horns is 468 thousandths of an inch. The Conn Victor bore was 484
thousandths of an inch. Most modern trumpet players have never seen, or even
heard of, a horn larger than 470. And, Bix mostly used an old-fashioned
cornet mouthpiece that was deep and open, compared to the modern ones. This
large bore and open mouthpiece would cause any cornetist to sacrifice some
endurance and some upper register accessibility. The payback is an enriched

>From listening to his recordings, I can guess that Bix must have played with
his upper and lower teeth fairly apart and his jaw relaxed. This created a
larger oral cavity as if to say, "Aw." He must have had a forward embouchure
that caused him to put a lot of  "meat" into the mouthpiece. It sounds like
he moved all this with a lot of air. You can hear his good health and
vitality at work. Remember, he was only 24 or 25 years old when he did his
greatest playing. No doubt he did these physical things unconsciously,
because most of the sound he created was a result of the sound he heard in
his head.

He had perfect pitch, and his abilities to apply it were phenomenal. In
fact, it has been reported that on numerous occasions on a dare or a bet, he
could turn his back and have someone bang out a big 10-note chord on the
piano--with the notes in any combination. Then, starting at the bottom and
going up, he would name every note in the chord. As any musician will tell
you, this is an incredible and seemingly impossible feat.

Layer all this God-given talent over Bix's ringing tone and attack and
you're halfway there. The rest of the story is the way he improvised--the
way he strung the notes together. For Bix was among the most creative and
intelligent improvisers in jazz history. Time after time, every performance
was new and fresh, as he selected the most interesting notes and intervals.
His work was not filled with overwhelming virtuosity. Rather it tended, upon
analysis, to be perfectly composed, as though he had spent weeks playing and
replaying his solos. Of course, he just tossed them off!

It is amazing that even from his teenage beginnings Bix understood and
completely applied musical economy. His goal was to make every note say
something. Automatic fingering patterns, full of throwaway notes, were
avoided. Sometimes this approach is found in the mellowness of a mature, and
therefore extra thoughtful artist. It is almost never combined with the
exuberance of youth, as in Bix's playing.

In all this Bix found his unique voice. A personal stamp, instantly
recognizable, is often present in the playing of the self-taught jazz
musician. And Bix learned to play with countless trial and error attempts.
He applied the "lick system:" Play one short pattern a few times, then
another and another, in repeated variations over and over until they can be
strung together in longer phrases. This was for him the easy way. Also, Bix
was not under the tutelage of any professor who demanded scales and etudes.
He practiced little ideas and melodies that came to him as he sat fascinated
with the result of his own creativity. There were great rewards for him in
this self-styled practice, so of course he spent a lot of time at it. Along
the way, Bix's sheer musical intelligence made him gradually gain
considerable technique. He could play fast, but was too lost in the quality
of his instant new melodies to use music merely to display his technique.

A part of Bix's approach to music came from his family and hometown. It came
from his boyhood. Much of the story is well known: Bix was from "the
heartland," the Midwest farm state of Iowa, the small town of Davenport. His
background was one of some privilege. His family lived in comfort in
Davenport. He was well educated, at least through high school. He was
reasonably handsome. He was white.

All of this--the safe small town, the security, the birthright, the
supportive family--gave Bix the room to dream and to practice without
specific requirements. In many respects it was luxury, with Bix having no
hard goals except the vague one of seeing how far he could take it all.

His family was dismayed, not by his obvious musical talent or his pursuit of
it, but by his fascination with a new "low class" music: jazz. Those of us
who have come after Bix can easily see the quality of the great art he
continues to pour out to us. But Bix's frustrated parents saw only a life of
tragedy. In many ways they were right. They had taken delight in their young
son's amazing ability to create a little quick music at the piano. They had
given encouragement. But now, this jazz was different! There was a wildness
in it, and they sensed danger. Bix's father and mother began to pull in a
new direction, away from music. Bix was sent away to Lake Forest Academy, an
expensive private school near Chicago. It had a reputation for producing
ranks of the model citizens the Beiderbeckes wished their son to join.

But it was too late. Bix had tasted the thrill of realizing his abilities to
create magnificent music on the spot; this spoke to him and those around
him; it said: "Come on! This is life!" He would chase this sweetness to the
end. As the years began to slide by, his family hoped against hope that he
would somehow grow up and enter a life of "real work and success." They
withheld any words of praise for Bix's amazing accomplishments. They turned
colder as Bix chased his addictions--his addiction to creating jazz
improvisation and his growing addiction to alcohol. Sadly, Agatha and
Bismark Beiderbecke misunderstood their son's musical obsessions. They gave
their love, which was deep and abiding, but they stubbornly withheld their

One telling incident repeated through the years has become a part of the Bix
mythology. As Bix rose to the top of his profession, he made about 160
recordings. It is through these recordings that we are now able to gain
access to the Bix mind and the Bix music. He regularly sent copies of his
finished records to his parents' home in Davenport, and it was there, during
a period when he attempted to escape the horrors of advancing alcohol
addiction, that he retreated.

One day he accidentally discovered all the records he had sent home. They
were stored in the back of a hall closet, in their original
packages--unopened. Of course, this hurt Bix deeply. Still, throughout his
life Bix had great love and respect for his parents and his siblings. His
letters home to them have now been published and they make obvious this

Bix probably would have experienced a similar pattern regardless of his
parents' resistance or encouragement. He seemed to have a built-in streak of
melancholy in his music and in his life. This bittersweet quality, often not
noticed when one first begins listening to Bix, may be the most intriguing
ingredient. For while the Beiderbecke sound is filled with joy--and it is
hot and it is swinging--it often carries a subtle sadness.

Bix died in 1931. He was 28. His body was shipped back to Davenport for
burial. In death he was again enfolded into the bosom of his family, and his
grave is there in the dignified Beiderbecke family plot. To family members
the day closed the saddest chapter of their lives. His grave is beside his
mother Agatha Beiderbecke, and a marker shows her date of death as 1952.

One can't help indulging in a little fantasy: By 1952 the world had come to
regard Bix as one of the towering figures of American music. As the cult of
admirers grew from a clutch of jazz musicians to a small army worldwide, as
Columbia Records in 1946 and 1947 re-issued his work in album form, as
critics almost universally cited him as an incomparable genius, and as some
highly creditable musicians began unabashedly to speak of him as one of the
most inspiring figures, not just of jazz or music, but of all art, what must
Agatha Beiderbecke have thought?

It is hard to imagine that she could not have finally taken great pride in
her son's work, which completely eclipses all that was done by all the
combined Beiderbecke clan and its progeny. She might at first have been
amazed at all the fuss, but as it continued and intensified over the
twenty-one years that she lived after Bix died, she knew, if nothing else,
how the world clamored for her son's music.

However, as the Beiderbecke home on Grand Avenue was sold, Agatha went
quietly to spend her last years at a downtown Davenport hotel and left no
record of how her feelings might have changed.

The groundswell of admiration and affection for Bix has never slowed. In
1971, on the 40th anniversary of Bix's death, a group of jazz musicians
traveled from New Jersey to Davenport and played over Bix's grave. This was
a wake-up call to some in Davenport. The next year a Bix Beiderbecke
Memorial Festival was begun there, and it has grown to be a huge annual
event, drawing about ten thousand to downtown Davenport every July.

A common pattern prevails in the Bix story. It is often easier to see our
great men and women from a distance, well past their lives. Bix is now a
world figure. Residents of Davenport, while they often know little about the
music, are now keenly aware that Bix is by far the most famous product of
their city.

The Bix landmarks in Davenport are like shrines. Pilgrims from around the
world visit. Usually, they start with Bix's grave. Then there is the
Beiderbecke home on Grand Avenue, the Presbyterian church where Bix was
baptized, an old upstairs school of dance where Bix played his first gig,
and the high school Bix attended before his transfer to Lake Forest Academy.

Other interesting old ballrooms are there with similar claims to fame: Bix
played there! There is a statue of Bix, and a major thoroughfare has been
named Bix Beiderbecke Drive. Every year some 20,000 long distance runners
gather in Davenport to race in Bix's name!

A Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society runs the annual festival, maintains an
office and provides "Bix Lives" shirts, stickers, and buttons. The Davenport
Library greets the faithful who look over a few old photographs and
documents. You can even get a "Bix burger" at a popular downtown restaurant.

During the last 75 years, it doesn't seem there has been much economic oomph
to Davenport. This must be lamented by many citizens there, but to the
Bixophile it makes the place a Mecca. It mostly remains as Bix last saw it,
just sitting there slowly rotting, but it's there. Street after street
contains Victorian frame houses similar to the Beiderbeckes'. Even Bix's
grandfather's imposing home still stands proudly on one of the Davenport
hills. The central business district is largely unchanged. It is easy to
picture Bix emerging there, a fresh, bright, energetic young man, his mind
happily flooded with interesting melodies.

The legend continues. Around the world more people are listening to Bix each
year. Every recording he made is now available on CD--even every alternate

It is strange that some in Davenport still lag behind the rest of the world.
City fathers there, in the face of ever mounting interest in Bix and his
hometown, still seem mostly disinterested and are even slow to support the
annual festival. To some, Bix's music, so compelling, ranks with the
greatest artistic works of history. To others it is just "some old music."

But the streets and buildings of Davenport speak to the dreamer in us, just
as Bix's horn very clearly speaks across the years. Many of us feel that
through his music we know him personally, even though he died years before
we were born.

© Jim Cullum, San Antonio, March 1, 2003


This month, "Riverwalk Jazz" commemorates the 100th birthday of Bix
Beiderbecke, the legendary jazz cornetist of the 1920s.

Two shows in March kick off a year-long celebration of Bix's centenary. "Bix
& The Wolverines: Hot Jazz in the Midwest" (uplinked 3/13) captures the
music of Bix and his band, The Wolverines, at the dawn of the Jazz Age in
the Midwest; and " 'Davenport Blues:' The Bix Beiderbecke Letters" (uplinked
3/20) includes readings from rare personal letters Bix wrote to his family
and friends.

Leon "Bix" Beiderbecke was born in 1903 in Davenport, Iowa, to a
middle-class merchant family. He began playing the piano at age 3, the
cornet at 14. His first exposure to jazz was hearing his older brother's
1917 records of the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. During his high school
days, he began gigging and sitting in with local bands. In September, 1921,
his parents enrolled him at the Lake Forest Academy near Chicago, hoping to
instill in him some discipline and interest in his studies, but the
proximity to Chicago and its nascent jazz scene had just the opposite
effect. He formed a small band and began playing for campus dances.

In 1922, after being expelled from Lake Forest and a brief period at home,
Bix began his professional career, working around Chicago and on Lake
Michigan excursion boats. In October of 1923 he joined the Wolverines and
toured Indiana and Ohio with them. The band made its recording debut on the
Gennett label. In 1924, Bix and the Wolverines moved to New York where they
played briefly at the Cinderella Ballroom. Bix left the Wolverines later
that year.

Saxophone pioneer Frank Trumbauer hired Bix in 1925 for his band in Detroit.
Then, Bix and "Tram" worked together in Jean Goldkette's band until 1927.
After a short stay with Adrian Rollini's big band in New York, Bix joined
Paul Whiteman and worked and toured nationally with him on and off until
1930, when his deteriorating health forced him to quit. He died in New York
in 1931 and is buried in Davenport. In that city, 25,000 people attended the
festival that commemorated the 50th anniversary of his death.

The music Bix left behind consists of his brilliant recorded work on cornet
with the bands mentioned above, plus his solo piano compositions "In A
Mist," "In The Dark," "Candle Light," and "Flashes," known collectively as
the "Modern Suite." In Bix's work, one clearly hears the influence of
Impressionist composers Debussy, Ravel, Satie, and others, as well as great
jazz masters such as Louis Armstrong.

Don Ingle says, "Bix was not only influenced by the Impressionists, but also
by the post Romantics, including the transitional American McDowell,
American Impressionist Eastwood Lane, and to some extent by Russians like
Rimsky-Korsakov. Dad [Red Ingle] recalled Bix playing Sheherezade on an old
windup player while they were killing daytime before the gig at Castle Farms
near Cincinnati in 1927. Bix was especially interested in how the
orchestration made use of various combinations of instruments to achieve
color. That, Dad told me, suggested that his interest was shifting to the
manner in which the music evolved, not just the playing of it."

Record producer George Avakian wrote in The Art of Jazz, (edited by Martin
T. Williams, Grove Press, Inc., New York, 1959): "Before we get into the
life story, let's consider the big thing: Bix's horn. It's something that
will never quite fade away, as long as there's a record around. Once heard,
it's a sound you'll never forget: the warm, mellow cornet tone, sometimes
with almost no vibrato at all; the attack that was sure, with every note
brought out as clearly as a padded mallet striking a chime; the flow of
ideas, sometimes bursting with spontaneous energy and yet always sounding
coolly calculated, as neatly arranged as though a composer had carefully
organized each phrase and then plotted all the little inflections and
dynamics. He was one of the most exciting musicians who ever lived, but he
did it by the individuality of his tone and the imaginativeness of his

It is acknowledged that Bix's musical legacy, although brief, exerted a wide
influence upon his contemporaries and beyond--especially on the young Hoagy
Carmichael, whose popular song "Skylark" originally bore the title "Bix

The list of trumpeters/cornetists directly influenced by Bix's playing is a
long one and includes such diverse players as Jimmy McPartland, Bobby
Hackett, Red Nichols, Rex Stewart, Tom Pletcher, Jim Cullum, Jr., and Miles
Davis. A biography, "Bix: Man and Legend" by Richard M. Sudhalter and
Phillip R. Evans, was first published in 1974. Another biography is "Bix:
The Leon Bix Beiderbecke Story" by Phillip R. and Linda K. Evans. The
Italian film "Bix" was produced in 1991 with music by Bob Wilber.

Bix Beiderbecke Resources on the Web:

Purchase Bix Beiderbecke CDs online here:

Bix Beiderbecke Memorial Society site:

Albert Haim's Bixography site:

Phil Pospychala presents A Tribute to Bix Beiderbecke:


"Riverwalk Jazz" will present two special tribute shows to Bix featuring
renowned New York bandleader and multi-instrumentalist Vince Giordano at the
30th Annual Sacramento Jazz Jubilee. The concerts will be recorded for later
broadcast at the fabulous Crest Theatre in downtown Sacramento on May 24th.

Click here for a complete schedule of "Riverwalk" concert recordings at the
Sacramento Jubilee:


Jazz trumpeter and cornetist Ruby Braff died on Sunday, February 9th in
North Chatham, Mass. He had been suffering from lung disease for years.

Reuben Braff was born on March 16, 1927, in Boston. Although Braff did not
make a notable impact on the jazz scene until the mid-50s, he was already an
accomplished and experienced cornet player. He had worked extensively in the
Boston area from the late 40s, playing with Pee Wee Russell and Edmond Hall,
recording with the latter in 1949. It was, however, Braff's 1953 recordings
with Vic Dickenson that drew the attention of jazz fans.

Between the Bop and the Revivalist movements lay the mainstream jazzmen of
which Braff was a leading example. His lyrical and expressive style, shot
through with bursts of white-hot excitement, lent itself especially well to
ballads, and during the rest of the 50s he made several excellent records in
distinguished company such as Buck Clayton, Mel Powell, Bud Freeman, and
Benny Goodman.

After a difficult five-year period in the late 1950s and early 60s, Braff
returned to prominence in the jazz world in the 60s when he toured with the
Newport All Stars. He formed a quartet with the guitarist George Barnes in
1973 and began to find work as a headliner at concerts, clubs and jazz

For the last 25 years he was mentor to a new generation of musicians who
shared his fondness for classic jazz, among them saxophonist Scott Hamilton,
guitarist Howard Alden, and trumpeter Jon-Erik Kellso.

Critic Harvey Pekar wrote, "Though Braff's style is rooted in the 1930s, it
doesn't sound dated."

Throughout his career Braff had very clear ideas about how jazz should and
should not be played, and he was never shy about expressing them. He said,
"Technique has nothing to do with music. The question is what you do with
it. I may have been able to do anything I wanted on the trumpet by high
school, but that doesn't mean it was any good."


Vocalist Rebecca Kilgore, a favorite guest performer on Riverwalk Jazz, was
inducted into the Jazz Society of Oregon Hall of Fame on Sunday, February
2nd before a standing-room-only crowd of over 300 jazz fans.

Musicians who have been inducted into the Hall of Fame in the past have
included Leroy Vinnegar, Ray Brown and Dave Frishberg. In addition to the
traditional plaque and accolades, the Jazz Society donates $1,000 in the
name of the musician to their Education Endowment Fund, used to provide
scholarships for young jazz students.

Chuck Carpenter, president of the Jazz Society of Oregon and SW Washington,
said: "In her extensive musical travels, Kilgore has raised the profile of
Oregon jazz, and in her most recent gig as radio host, Becky has brought the
sounds of other musicians around the country to our attention. As a singer,
her accurate phrasing and strong voice have earned her many fans, including
cartoonist Gary Larson, who had Kilgore sing 'I'll Be Seeing You' for his
animated TV special Tales From the Far Side. Another fan is Fresh Air host
Terry Gross, who has had Kilgore on her show several times.... Becky Kilgore
is truly a goodwill ambassador for jazz music and Oregon, and the Jazz
Society was proud to be able to recognize her talent and hard work in
setting the highest standards for jazz performance throughout the world."

Congratulations, Becky!

Kilgore appears in many recent Riverwalk shows, including "Home for the
Holidays," "I Wish I Were Twins: The Fats Waller Bluebird Sessions," "A
Night at the Movies with Irving Berlin," and "Pennies from Heaven: The
Lyrics of Johnny Burke."

Rebecca Kilgore will record two new shows in Sacramento this year with the


On February 23, David Holt (above left, with Doc Watson on right), host of
Riverwalk, Live From The Landing, won his second Grammy Award, this time in
the Best Traditional Folk Recording category. The title is Legacy--Doc
Watson and David Holt. Click here for more information.

David says, "This Grammy means more than just about anything I could do
career wise. It is one thing to get nominated for a Grammy, but it is very
difficult to win. We actually couldn't believe it! We are still jumping up
and down. I am so glad our musical peers saw the value (and work) in this
project. It is definitely a career highlight...and I am so glad that it
honors Doc Watson."

See http://www.docwatsonanddavidholt.com

Congratulations, David!


Clarinetist Allan Vaché, who performed with the Jim Cullum Jazz Band for 17
years from 1975 to 1992, will once again take the stage at the Landing to
swing with Jim and the Band for two nights in March, the 21st and 22nd.

Born in Rahway, NJ, Allan grew up in a musical family: his father Warren
Vaché Sr. is a bassist, and his elder brother Warren Vaché, Jr. is a
well-known jazz cornetist. Allan not surprisingly took to music early, and
while at Jersey City State College from 1971-1975 he studied with David
Dworkin of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra as well as independent study
with jazz clarinetist Kenny Davern.

Since Allan left the JCJB and San Antonio in late summer 1992 to pursue a
freelance career, he has appeared as a solo performer at jazz parties and
festivals around the country and abroad, touring Germany, Austria, Scotland,
Ireland, Poland and Switzerland. He also returns at times to San Antonio to
fill in at the Landing and to Sacramento as a guest on "Riverwalk."

In 1993 Allan moved to Orlando, Florida, and claims that city as his home
base. He has numerous recordings to his credit, both with other bands and
under his own name, for the Audiophile, Jazzology, Nagel-Heyer and Arbors
record labels.

Allan is once again scheduled to appear with the JCJB in Sacramento this
coming Memorial Day weekend to record a new "Riverwalk" show: a tribute to
Fletcher Henderson.

To reserve your table at the Landing for March 21 and 22, please call The
Landing during normal business hours, Central Time, Monday through Friday,
at 210-223-7266 or 210-602-0967.


Our good friend José A. Estévez, Jr. has created a new discography of the
Jim Cullum Jazz Band. This is the first time a list of all the extant JCJB
recordings has ever been compiled, from the first Happy Jazz Band LP, "The
Happy Jazz Band" released in 1963, to the latest CD, "Long Way From St.
Louis" with guest pianist, the late Ralph Sutton, released in 2001.

San Antonio resident José is an authority on Latin music and has worked for
the "All Music Guide." He's also an avid fan of the JCJB.

Click here to read the JCJB discography:


For November 2002, Jim Cullum's Landing in San Antonio offers FREE ADMISSION
if you are currently employed as:

*Active-duty US Armed Forces

Please show your ID to your server. There is a limit of 4 free admissions
per party.

Jim Cullum says: "In this small way we wish to show our love for the
country, and our support of our military and our President."

For reservations,  please call The Landing during normal business hours,
Central Time, Monday through Friday, at 210-223-7266 or 210-602-0967.
Reservations are suggested only on weekend nights or for large parties.


Fan mail is music to our ears. We love hearing from you. If you have any
comments about our radio program or a live performance by the Jim Cullum
Jazz Band, email them to the webmaster at mophandl at landing.com, and please
let us know where you are located and on which radio station you heard the

UPCOMING TRAVELS: The Jim Cullum Jazz Band appears Monday through Saturday
nights beginning at 8:30 PM at the Landing in San Antonio except for
highlighted dates below. To find out when the JCJB is coming to your town in
2003, go to the JCJB Touring Itinerary page here:


March Events

21-22 Clarinetist Allan Vaché performs with the JCJB at the Landing in San

31 The JCJB is playing for a private party tonight!

April Events

10 JCJB Concert: Civic Center, Lubbock, TX 8:00 PM.

11 JCJB Concert: Victoria College, Victoria, TX 7:00 PM


Note: Riverwalk public radio shows are recorded well in advance of their air
dates. The listings below do not reflect live appearances at the Landing in
San Antonio. For what's happening at the Landing, check the itinerary page


3/6 My Heart: The Story of Lil Hardin Armstrong
The Jim Cullum Jazz Band celebrates Women's History Month with a broadcast
honoring jazz composer and pianist, Lil Hardin Armstrong, including rare
interviews in which she talks about her life in music and her marriage to
Louis Armstrong.

3/13 Bix & The Wolverines: Hot Jazz in the Midwest
Riverwalk kicks off a yearlong celebration of cornetist Bix Beiderbecke's
Centennial birthday. The Jim Cullum Jazz Band captures the music of Bix and
his band, The Wolverines, at the dawn of the Jazz Age in the Midwest.

3/20 "Davenport Blues:" The Bix Beiderbecke Letters
The Jim Cullum Jazz Band performs the music of Bix Beiderbecke in honor of
his 100th birthday. Program includes readings from rare personal letters Bix
wrote to his family and friends.

3/27 Bumpy Beds and Broken-down Buses: On the Road in the 30s
Milt Hinton, Doc Cheatham, and Clark Terry share stories of their days on
the road, from one-nighters with the Cab Calloway Band to bunking with Count

For information on how to attend an upcoming live "Riverwalk" recording:


For information on how to hear Riverwalk in your area on the airwaves or
streamed on the internet:


Browse the "Jazz Me News" archive here:



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