“GOD IS LAUGHING”: CHICAGO JAZZ HISTORY

About two blocks west of the Supreme Life building is a site that once housed a legendary nightclub, the Sunset Cafe at 315 E. 35th St.

Louis Armstrong, Earl “Fatha” Hines and Benny Goodman all played the Sunset, which was transformed from a garage in 1921 to one of the city’s hottest jazz venues. Armstrong wrote a song and named it “Sunset Cafe Stomp.” In 1937 the nightclub was remodeled again and was renamed the Grand Terrace Cafe. It continued to be a nightclub until 1950.

In the 1960s, the building was transformed into a hardware store. David Meyers, who owns the store with his brother, Daniel, often takes tourists up a short flight of stairs in the back to his office, which used to be the Sunset’s stage. “You’re standing on holy, sacred ground; that’s what a jazz musician told me when he came to see the place,” Meyers says. “I autograph plungers for people all the time.”

In 2005 eight German jazz musicians asked Meyers for more than a souvenir. They wanted to hold a jam session on the old stage. Meyers said yes.

“Imagine,” Meyers says. “Eight German musicians come to play in a black neighborhood in a hardware store owned by a Jew. God is laughing.”

(This is an excerpt from the long story by Don Terry published in the Chicago Tribune on February 1, 2009.)

DESERT ISLAND DISCS (FEBRUARY 3, 2009)

At the suggestion of my friend Bill Gallagher, I am compiling this afternoon’s list of Desert Island Discs — named for the famous BBC radio program — and invite readers to do likewise.

The rules?  There are always rules, although readers may wish to be less stringent with themselves.  One item by any musician: no ostentatious duplications, although overlaps are inevitable.  Box sets (a generous self-indulgence) are of course allowed and encouraged.  Half of the list may be devoted to the Dearly Departed; the remainder must include a majority of living artists.  Alphabetical order, so as not to imply a ranking by virtue.

Here goes (as of a snowy February 3, 2009) — done off the top of my head, without visits to the CD stacks!  Try it yourself and send in your lists, which I am sure will be revealing.

Louis Armstrong 1935-49 Decca releases (Ambassador)

Bob Barnard / John Sheridan: The Nearness of Two (Nif Nuf)

BED, Four + One (Blue Swing)

The Blue Note Jazzmen (Blue Note)

Melissa Collard, Old-Fashioned Love (Melismatic)

The Vic Dickenson Showcase (Vanguard)

Eddie Condon Town Hall Concerts (Jazzology)

Billie Holiday: Lady Day (Sony)

Jon-Erik Kellso, Blue Roof Blues (Arbors)

Barbara Rosene, It Was Only A Sun Shower (Stomp Off)

Mark Shane: Riffles (Amber Lake)

I lament that I didn’t invent an Honorable Mention category — but there’s always next week, next month . . . . Then I can sneak in Dan Block, Basie at the Famous Door, the Fargo dance date, Tony Fruscella, Bix, Buck, Bobby . . . . the mind it simply reels! And if you’re going to write in, taking me to task for leaving out Bent Persson, Ben Webster (with or without strings), Fats Waller, Jack Teagarden, Hal Smith, Red Allen, Marc Caparone, Dawn Lambeth, Dave Frishberg, Bennie Moten in 1932, Goodman, Jess Stacy, Teddy Wilson, Mel Powell, Ehud Asherie . . . . I know, I know, I know.  It’s only a game, mind you.

Thanks to http://www.colindussault.com for the image above!

DUSTIN HOFFMAN STOLE MY FANTASY

“If God was to say to me, ‘You want to play really good jazz piano, you have to give up what you are doing,’ I would do it in a minute.”

Hoffman to Meg Grant, “Just Dustin,” AARP, March/April 2009.

Admittedly, to some readers I might have less to give up that Hoffman, but that’s no excuse for his shoplifting this chunk of my inner life.

Dusty, I don’t care how many Oscars you’ve won.  Get the hell off my piano bench.  There isn’t room for the two of us.