A celebrated jazz writer offers fascinating portraits of friends he's known during a lifetime in jazz For more than half a century, jazz writer and lyricist Gene Lees has been the friend of many in the world of jazz music. In this delightful book he offers minibiographies of fifteen of these friends-some of them jazz greats, some lesser-known figures, and some up-and-comers. Combining conversations and memoirs with critical commentary, Lees's insightful and intimate profiles will captivate jazz fans, performers, and historians alike. The subjects of the book range from the versatile orchestrator and arranger Claus Ogerman to legendary jazz broadcaster Willis Conover, from the gifted young Chinese violinist Yue Deng to undersung pianist Junior Mance. Lees writes about these figures both as musicians and as human beings, and he writes out of a conviction that jazz as an art form represents the highest values of American culture. Inviting us into the lives of these unique individuals, Lees offers an affectionate view of the jazz community that only an insider could provide.

In this wise, stimulating, and deeply personal book, an eminent jazz chronicler writes of his encounters with four great black musicians: Dizzy Gillespie, Clark Terry, Milt Hinton, and Nat "King" Cole. Equal parts memoir, oral history, and commentary, each of the main chapters is a minibiography, weaving together conversations Gene Lees had with the musicians and their families, friends, and associates over a period of several decades.
Lees begins the book with an essay that tells of his introduction to the world of jazz and his reaction to racism in the United States when he emigrated from Canada in 1955. The underlying theme in his book is the impact racism had on the four musicians' lives and careers and their determination to overcome it. As Lees writes, "No white person can even begin to understand the black experience in the United States. . . . All of the four jazz makers] are men who had every reason to embrace bitterness--and didn't."

Best known for the "dead-ant" theme to the Pink Panther films, Henry Mancini also composed the music to Peter Gunn, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Orson Welles' Touch of Evil, and the Academy Award winning soundtracks to Victor/Victoria and The Days of Wine and Roses. In a career that lasted over thirty years, Mancini amassed twenty Grammy awards and more nominations than any other composer. In his memoir, written with jazz expert Lees, Mancini discusses his close friendships with Blake Edwards, Julie Andrews, and Paul Newman, his professional collaborations with Johnny Mercer, Luciano Pavarotti, and James Galway, and his achievements as a husband, father, and grandfather. A great memoir loaded with equal parts Hollywood glitz and Italian gusto.

An engaging biography of a living musical legend, Oscar Peterson. A man Duke Ellington once called the " maharajah of the piano." Gene Lees carefully builds up the portrait of Peterson, his childhood and what it meant to be be black and talented in Montreal in the 1940s, hist three marriages and six children, his musical partners (Ray Brown, Herb Ellis and Ed Thigpen), his musical friends and colleagues (Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Art Tatum and Lester Young, amongst others) and the critical controversy and mythology that have long surrounded Peterson. This updated version has a new chapter that covers Peterson's appointment as Chancellor of York University; his receipt of ten honorary doctorates and the Order of Canada; his stroke and partial recovery; the origins and fallout of his cancelled North American tour and much more.

This is the definitive work on the great songwriters who dominated the classical era of American popular music. Uniquely analytical yet engagingly informal, the book draws on over 700 musical examples to demonstrate the melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic qualities that distinguish American popular music and transformed it into an authentic art form.

Tracing its roots to 1890s ragtime, Wilder shows how the American style was incorporated into mainstream popular music and developed into the brilliantly inventive, and often musically subtle, crowd-pleasers of Kern, Berlin, Porter, Gershwin, and Rodgers.

Woody Herman was a central figure in the development of jazz - a musical giant whose career spanned the big band and bebop eras. Gene Lees has spent close to a decade interviewing Herman's friends and fellow musicians, to produce a vivid portrayal of the triumph and tragedy of a life in jazz.

This book is a celebration of the generation of popular singers which emerged during and after the war: singers such as Frank Sinatra, Peggy Lee, and Sarah Vaughan. Universally praised as intuitive performers, Gene Lees's expert analysis also shows them to be intelligent, skilful artists, didicated to their work. Sinatra is singled out for special praise: Lees describes him as 'our Poet Laureate, and best singer we've ever heard', and points out his technical virtuosity and his unique style of phrasing. The book also looks at some of the composers and lyricists whose material was finely tuned to suit the abilities of these new popular stars. A lyricist himself, Lees gives us an illuminating account of the language used by writers such as Johnny Mercer, their choice of subject matter, and their extraordinary gifts for rhyme and rhythm.

Gene Lees is probably the best jazz essayist in America today, and the book that consolidated his reputation was Singers and the Song, which appeared in 1987. Now this classic work is being released in an expanded edition: Singers and the Song II. This volume includes famous selections from the original edition, including Lees' classic profile of Frank Sinatra, as well as new essays.

It was none other than Louis Armstrong who said, "These people who make the restrictions, they don't know nothing about music. It's no crime for cats of any color to get together and blow." "You can't know what it means to be black in the United States--in any field," Dizzy Gillespie once said, but Gillespie vigorously objected to the proposition that only black people could play jazz. "If you accept that premise, well then what you're saying is that maybe black people can only play jazz. And black people, like anyone else, can be anything they want to be."
In Cats of Any Color, Gene Lees, the acclaimed author of three previous collections of essays on jazz and popular music, takes a long overdue look at the shocking pervasiveness of racism in jazz's past and present--both the white racism that long ghettoized the music and generations of talented black musicians, and what Lees maintains is an increasingly virulent reverse racism aimed at white jazz musicians. In candid interviews, living jazz legends, critics, and composers step forward and share their thoughts on how racism has affected their lives. Dave Brubeck, part Modoc Indian, discusses native Americans' contribution to jazz and the deeply ingrained racism that for a time made it all but impossible for jazz groups with black and white players to book tours and television appearances. Horace Silver looks back on his long career, including the first time he ever heard jazz played live. Blacks were not not allowed into the pavilion in Connecticut where Jimmie Lunceford's band was performing, so the ten-year-old Silver listened and watched through the wooden slats surrounding the pavilion. "And oh man That was it " Silver recalls. Red Rodney recalls his early days with Charlie "Bird" Parker, and pianist and composer Cedar Walton tells of the time Duke Ellington played at the army base at Ford Dix and allowed the young enlisted Walton to sit in. Tracing the jazz world's shifting attitude towards race, many of the stories Lees tells are inspiring--Brubeck cancelling 23 out of 25 concert dates in the South rather than replace black bass player Eugene Wright, or Silver insisting that while he strives to provide his fellow black musicians opportunities, "I just want the best musicans I can get. I don't give a damn if they're pink or polka dot." Others are profoundly disturbing--Lees' first encounter with Oscar Peterson, after a Canadian barber flatly refused to cut Peterson's hair, or Wynton Marsalis on television claiming that blacks have been held back for so many years because the music business is controlled by "people who read the Torah and stuff."
From the old shantytowns of Louisville, to the streets of South Central L.A., to the up-to-the-minute controversies surrounding Marsalis's jazz program at Lincoln Center, and the Jazz Masters awards given by the NEA, Cats of Any Color confronts racism head-on. At its heart is a passionate plea to recognize jazz not as the sole property of any one group, but as an art form celebrating the human spirit--not just for the protection of individual musicians, but for the preservation of the music itself.

Chet Atkins called Lenny Breau (1941-1984) "the greatest guitarist who ever walked the face of the earth." Breau's astonishing virtuosity influenced countless performers, but unfortunately it came at the expense of his personal relationships. Ron Forbes-Roberts analyzes Breau and his recordings to reveal an enormously gifted man and the inner workings of his music.

In candid interviews, jazz players, composers and critics share their thoughts on how racism has affected their lives. Gene Lees points out that many jazz musicians have been at least in part Native Americans, but the Indian contribution has never been acknowledged. Dave Brubeck, who himself has Indian ancestors, describes how racism long made it all but impossible for jazz groups composed of white and black players to book tours. And Horace Silver recalls listening as a boy to the black Jimme Lunceford band through the wooden slats of a Connecticut pavilion to which blacks were not admitted - except as performers.