[Dixielandjazz] When to pack it in

[ROBERT R. CALDER]

I remember Nat Adderley coming to the Glasgow Jazz Festival, with Mark Gross on 
alto -- who has been back since (too long ago already) doing the Johnny Hodges 
stuff in the considerably better than Ghost band led by an Ellington grandson. 

Nat had a lovely line about being all his life next to the ideal, not only his 
brother Cannonball but the occasion when he was in the next motel room to Sam 
Jones during an engagement of a few days. I shall say nothing about "pack it in" 
concerning the events in the Jones room...  so delicately indicated by Nat.  It 
wasn't too long after the Glasgow date that one of Nat's feet was amputated on 
account of circulation problems, and he died relatively soon after that. 

The band played an encore, and Nat had no ideas there at all, absolutely 
nothing, he looked tired, but he just served as a makeweight in the ensemble and 
it was nice to hear the other guys in encore.
As for the concert, he was definitely not lacking in any respect (if you went 
for his sort of music and honest energetic musical expression). He did sing at 
one point, which was fun, but what I realised during the friendly encore was 
that the little man had played himself out in the course of the main 
performance.  He had nothing left, he had given his all.  He had paced the 
concert with no sign of holding back, until packing it in for the evening 
matched his moment of having to pack it in. Filled to the brim. So I feel 
privileged to have seen him. 

I also remember one superbly accomplished performer I heard at a time when Buddy 
Tate and Billy Butterfield could be heard giving their all. No name, but he was 
a lazy sod. He'd packed it in before he'd started. 

I've heard others on a recognisable bad nights, under pressure. 
And there were some people who had so much there was still some point in going 
along to hear them -- the conserved remains or the ruins of a castle (like some 
ancient opera singers, of a surviving uniqueness). I would probably have gone 
along to see Earl Hines in old age. And of course there was Harry Edison, whom 
Humphrey Lyttelton described from seeing him on a German cable TV broadcast, who 
seems to have been diagnosed with some form of cancer when he was 69, and when 
he was in his mighty prime. Humph described him as needing to be helped to the 
microphone, and barely able to play, and it took some time for Humph to 
recognise him. 

A year later he was booked to appear in Stuttgart. I staggered back from the 
poster, and would probably have done so even if I'd not known he'd just died. 

There was an advert in a German jazz mag in which an obituary appeared.  Who's 
going to tell the great musician? 

Ah, me, where is the great jazz musician of any sort to which this could now 
apply?