7. The New Orleans Sidemen and Other Lights

Before we move on to the innovations of the 20s, I thought it would be appropriate to give a mention to some of the names we seem to speed past.  These are the stars of the New Orleans style whose roles were vital but who are sometimes eclipsed by the bigger names.  The tendency to tell the history of jazz as a succession of giants often misses people who help to formulate jazz, especially in the heady era of ensemble improvisation.

Kid Ory

One of the great New Orleans trombone players, Ory personifies the ”tailgating” trombone style. (When the bands played on trucks and wagons round the streets, the trombone player would sit at the tailgate of the truck, so they could fully extend their slides).  A charismatic band leader, Ory moved to California in 1919, where he recorded the first jazz by a black band. By the late 20s he was in Chicago.

 Ory’s Creole Trombone, recorded in 1921.

Jimmie Noone

Another child clarinet prodigy, Noone played in Storyville with Freddie Keppard and in the Eagle band, as well as with King Oliver. By the mid 20s he was leading his own band in Chicago, where, against the trend, he preferred to be based through the 30s. Here’s his own band, with Earl Hines on piano (of whom, more later) on a tune entitled Four or Five Times:

Johnny Dodds

Dodds (pronounce it "Dots" and show how in-the-know you are) was a New Orleans stalwart on clarinet and alto sax, playing with King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton, and later Louis Armstrong. We’ve already heard him a couple of times – with Morton and Oliver. 

 Here’s his Perdido Street Blues:

Sam Morgan

A fine New Orleans trumpet player, Morgan stayed in New Orleans instead of migrating north, and remained popular there, where he continued playing the style until his death in 1936. His records, recorded for Columbia in a record shop on Canal Street, are wonderful. Members of his band went on to work with George Lewis - who used to sit in with the Morgan band in Rampart Street - and Bunk Johnson in the 40s revival.

 Over in the Glory Land:

Ory, Noone, Dodds and Morgan on CD:

6. Sidney Bechet

A child prodigy on clarinet who took up the then unusual soprano saxophone (which only really gained popularity after John Coltrane took it up in the1960s), Bechet was playing professionally in New Orleans bands before he was in his teens. He played in the Olympia Orchestra, under the leadership of Freddie Keppard, and in 1911, aged 14, joined Buddy Bolden’s former band, the Eagle Band, where he played alongside Bunk Johnson.

Sidney Bechet

Influential clarinet innovator

Bechet really does deserve a mention alongside the early giants, first because he was a huge influence on clarinet sound in early jazz, even though he was barely a teenager when he began exerting this influence, and second because we can hear in him, along with Armstrong, the sound of the next stage in jazz.

The reason I might have swithered about including him here is that actually I think his best work comes later. However, it would just have seemed deliberately perverse not to give him a mention at this point.

“Difficult” personality

Although loved by his fans, Bechet was not universally loved as a person by other musicians. He was early to tour jazz to Europe, including to the UK in the Teens. In the late 20s he is imprisoned in France for injuring a passerby during a shootout with another musician over an argument about chord changes. Yes, really!

Wild Cat Blues


The track I have chosen is his first recording session, Wild Cat Blues, from 1923. He is the featured artist with Clarence Williams' Blue Five. Straight away you can hear that this is not ensemble playing as we have heard so far. This is a showcase for Bechet (and the band actually gives pretty average at best performance anyway). Bechet is playing soprano sax here, and he totally dominates the tune.

 The next thing to notice is that it isn’t actually blues (although Bechet can be very bluesy when he chooses). Wild Cat Blues doesn’t have a bluesy feel, and it doesn’t follow a blues chord structure. It’s far more raggy: it has a succession of four themes. In many of his improvisations he is simply arpeggiating the chords, but listen to his more novel break in the minor key section at around 2:18. He completely breaks away from the beat here, holding a high note for a minim’s length, with an intense vibrato, then a little flick before accenting the fourth beat of the bar. It’s a rhythmically adventurous lick, and it cuts right through the accompaniment.

Bechet on CD:

 You might want to consider The Complete American Masters 1931-1953 from Decca, a 14-CD set (which actually does include Wild Cat Blues from 1923, despite the set’s title!). However, be aware that the case is the size of a shoebox, so it won’t fit your CD shelves. It’ll cost you £28 - £30.

A cheaper option is the 1 CD Legendary Sidney Bechet, 1932-1941 from RCA Bluebird. This doesn’t have Wild Cat Blues, but does have a good selection of his notable recordings.

5. King Oliver

This probably seems like we’ve lost chronological order, but that’s because jazz wasn’t put onto record in the right order. The recording industry was slow to catch up with jazz, so the first generation were recorded haphazardly.

Innovations with mutes

Joe Oliver was the third King of New Orleans jazz, having taken the crown from Freddie Keppard. He was active on the New Orleans scene from 1908 – 1917, when he took his band north to Chicago, part of the Great Migration of Southern blacks hoping to escape poverty and racism. He was a commanding, muscular player, with a style that was bluesier than Keppard’s, and he experimented with the use of mutes to imitate the human voice. He invented the Harmon mute (later favoured by Miles Davis), although it was patented by the white owner of the club at which Oliver played in Chicago, music and sports promoter Paddy Harmon (depriving Joe and his dependents of what would have been a decent royalty stream). A bowler hat wearer, one of Oliver’s early attempts to manipulate his sound was to use his hat as a mute. When we now think of Traditional Jazz*, we think of bowler hat mutes; Joe Oliver was the prototype.

Generous mentor

King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band were masters of the New Orleans ensemble polyphony, and highly influential on other musicians. Joe himself was remembered, in those early New Orleans days, as nurturing young talent. Louis Armstrong remembers that when Louis was an unknown kid blowing inexpertly on street corners, Oliver was always happy to stop and give pointers to him or anyone else he thought had a nascent talent.

Harmony improvising

In July 1922, Oliver wrote to Louis Armstrong in New Orleans, inviting him to Chicago to join the Creole Jazz Band on second cornet. What Oliver had in mind was the close harmony cornet improvising that was popular in New Orleans, but hadn’t yet been heard in Chicago. Here we can hear the sort of improvising that Jelly Roll Morton felt he had to write down for his pick-up musicians when he first left New Orleans (and, being a control-freak, kept doing even with high quality New Orleans improvisers). Although Armstrong could read and write music, this type of improvising was second nature to him and Oliver, and it caused a sensation in Chicago.

 Dippermouth Blues:

Listen to the bent notes and glisses and slides, Oliver’s famous Cry Baby lick on muted trumpet, and the stop-time section for Johnny Dodds’ clarinet solo. You can hear the extended ensemble improvisation after Dodds’ spot, from about 1:08, during which we hear Armstrong's cornet without Oliver's, and Oliver’s mute use can be heard most clearly from about 1:25, especially during the chorus which cumulates in his trade-mark Laughing Lick at 1:58. This is bluesy, improvised New Orleans polyphony at its best.

 Joe "King" Oliver on CD

Morton and Cook recommend King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band, The Complete Set on the Retrieval imprint. They write "The Creole Jazz Band sides were the first genuinely important recordings by black musicians. [...] for a shining moment, his group expressed to us everything that jazz was about". (p14, the Penguin Jazz Guide).

* A note on terminology. Generally speaking, "New Orleans Jazz" means early jazz styles played by black or Creole musicians. "Dixieland Jazz" means early styles played by white musicians. "Trad Jazz" means revivalist music played by British musicians. The longer "Traditional" Jazz is a term that covers all these. But some degree of term overlap is common.

4. Ferdinand “Jelly Roll” Morton

While details of Bolden and Keppard’s lives are sketchy, Morton’s was genuinely shady. He was a professional gambler, snake oil salesman (one concoction he made by boiling down Coca-Cola and adding salt), a con man, an occasional small-time pimp, and was known to carry a knife and use it. If there was a dodgy deal he could get in on, he would. The name he went by was a black New Orleans euphemism for female genitalia (c/f, for example New Orleans guitarist Lonnie Johnson’s lyrics: Jelly Killed Old Sam - video link), and he had a diamond tooth. (The great pianist Mary Lou Williams remembers being frightened of him, and finding his smile and that tooth sinister).

Jelly Roll Morton

Morton began his professional career as a pianist at the age of 14, playing in the brothels of New Orleans’ Storyville district. By 1904 he had left New Orleans, and took his music – and con routines - all over America and even Canada, including Chicago, Kansas City, St Louis, Detroit, and New York, where he was heard by what was to be the first generation of stride players. James P Johnson remembered hearing him in New York in 1911. He was probably one of the earliest artists to spread the New Orleans style to other urban centres.

Jazz Educator

Morton picked up bands as he went, and found he had to write out parts for local musicians not used to the New Orleans ensemble improvising. He is also known to have demonstrated for non reading musicians their parts on his piano. By this means, Morton was an early jazz educator, helping to spread the New Orleans ideas in the first decade of the 20th Century.

Morton’s playing uses distinctive right hand voicings, with the harmonies placed above the melody, and often using flattened 5th intervals. This was adopted as the New Orleans piano style.

The side we’re listening to is Morton’s own Blackbottom Stomp, recorded in 1926 by Morton’s Red Hot Peppers. It was originally called Queen of Spades, but he renamed it for the session, in order to cash in on the Black Bottom dance craze of the time.

What we hear is great bit of ensemble playing, which you might expect from players like Kid Ory on trombone (in wonderful “tailgating” form), Johnny St Cyr on banjo, and Omer Simeon on clarinet. But it is also clear that while there are ensemble and solo improvisations, there are also a lot of arranged passages. Listen to the descending ensemble riff at about 0:48 seconds to change key, for example. The piece is packed with tricks and dynamics, from the stop time passages, to the trumpet calls and ensemble responses. Many of these were dictated by Morton, rather than spontaneous inventions of improvisers. It’s also very “raggy”, with its collection of themes, and shift from Bb to Gm and back, and up to Eb.

Overlaid time signatures

And for once we can actually hear the rhythm section fairly well. We get a good flavour of the way a New Orleans rhythm section would play a 4/4 piece with a 2/4 feel, but slip back to 4/4 when emphasis is needed. It’s an effective technique. Earlier recording had been unable to capture the excitement of a New Orleans rhythm section, and now we get an idea of how we had been told they sounded: the light and shade, dropping out for certain passages, the barnstorming final chorus, the overlaid time signatures, and so on.

But overall, while there are solo breaks, this is an ensemble piece, in the old New Orleans mould; shaped and corralled by Morton, sculptured in his unique and demanding way, but it is not a vehicle for showcasing solos.

On CD

You can hear Morton’s solo piano playing on the Library of Congress recordings made by Alan Lomax in 1938, or you could try to get this tune on the CD recommended by Brian Morton and Richard Cook, on the (Chronological) Classics label, CD number 612, Jelly Roll Morton 1926 -1928. The French company went bankrupt, and their Jelly Roll CDs, with the famous typo (“Chronogical”), are hard to find, and getting more and more expensive.

You’re better opting for the 4-CD Proper Box, Dr Jazz, which gives an excellent overview of his career, both solo and ensemble:

Another good option for the Red Hot Peppers is the Bluebird CD, Birth of the Hot:

3. Freddie Keppard

Freddie Keppard was, by all accounts, long past his prime by the time he was finally recorded. He was one of that first class of New Orleans musicians in the first decade of the 20th Century to play what we would today call jazz. Though his powers were diminished by the time of the recording we’re about to hear, it is through him that we can perhaps get an inkling of the music of that first decade of jazz.

Freddie Keppard (from Red Hot Jazz Archive).

Keppard, a former shoeshine boy on Basin Street, took Buddy Bolden’s spot on cornet in the Eagle Band - formerly the Bolden Band, founded 1895 - when Bolden was incapacitated. Those who saw him at his peak say Keppard played very much in the Bolden style, which meant a penetrating, ringing, melodic tone, used to rhythmically lead the band. Bolden was credited with inventing, or at least popularising, the “Big Four” beat (see Wynton Marsalis’ explanation here: Big Four beat ), so Keppard’s role in the Eagle Band was very much to propel the other players.

King Keppard

After Bolden, he was the second to be called “King” – at the age of 16 - by other New Orleans musicians.

The side I’ve chosen to demonstrate Keppard’s style is Stock Yards Strut, recorded by Freddie Keppard's Jazz Cardinals in September 1926. That’s nearly 10 years after the ODJB’s first side, but, with the caveats discussed in the previous post, we’re going to assume that Keppard’s style hadn’t changed much since the first decade of the century. Keppard had left New Orleans in about 1914, maybe a little earlier, to take his music first to Los Angeles, and then from coast to coast and points in between, and it seems reasonable to assume, with the benefit of contemporary accounts, that his style had fully developed by that time. Tantalisingly, we’re told he was offered a recording date in 1915, but turned it down, according to legend because he was afraid other musicians would cop his licks. (More probably it was because as a professional, urban musician, he knew his worth, and didn’t think much of the terms he’d been offered). Either way, he missed out on the chance to lead the first jazz band on record.

While he was a great player, he was not really an innovator. What we hear him play is, more or less, what he learned from Bolden. Those who heard both in the flesh attest to this. (eg Peter Bocage, quoted in Marquis, D, 1978, In Search of Buddy Bolden,  "[Bolden and Keppard] were most on the same style.  The improvisations is always gonna be a little different, no two men alike". p105).

The first thing to notice is how much it is Keppard who rhythmically propels the tune. The nominal rhythm section of Arthur Campbell on piano, and Jasper Taylor on woodblocks (a compromise drummers came up with so as not to overwhelm the recording equipment) follows Keppard rather than the other way round, so much so that you can hear them fumble when Keppard drops out.

Polyphony

The next thing to notice is that New Orleans polyphony. This is the vital feature of early New Orleans jazz; the ensemble improvising that went on between cornet, clarinet (here played by the great Johnny Dodds) and trombone (Eddie Vincent).

Those three instruments essentially take different parts of the chord: trombone plays the root note; cornet (or trumpet) takes the middle part of the chord, where the main melody will be voiced; and clarinet – most agile of the three – uses the highest notes to arpeggiate patterns like the cast iron filigree work of New Orleans balconies. By knowing their respective roles, they can then weave in and out of each other, improvising counterpoint and harmonies, each contributing their own individual character, and with the whole greater than the parts. That ensemble polyphony is perhaps little changed from what we think went on in Bolden’s day.

A window on the early years of jazz

Like his mentor, Keppard was an alcoholic, and died in 1933, aged only 44.

So there we have it, King Keppard: second king of jazz, in decline by the time we get to hear him, but his recordings are the frosty window through which we can glimpse the beginnings. (Although, again, I'd remind you that this was recorded in 1926).

Keppard on CD
You can get Freddie Keppard tracks on several New Orleans era compilation CDs, but he only recorded 24 tracks, and they are all on “Freddie Keppard, the Complete Set 1923-26”, on the Retrieval imprint of Challenge Records.  It is recommended by Morton and Cook in the Penguin Jazz Guide as having much better sound quality than previous CD issues.

2b. More pre-history of jazz

Some more examples of the sorts of formative influences to be found in New Orleans as jazz was being born.

Gospel:

Blues:

 

Fife and Drum:

(Again, please remember that these are later recordings).

2a. The Pre-history of jazz

The post on Freddie Keppard is coming soon, but in the meantime here's some examples of the sort of things that were in the mix in New Orleans at the end of the 19th Century.

(Obviously, these were not recorded at that time, so approach with a modicum of caution).

African-American fife and drum music:

Levee Camp Holler:

Work Songs:

Ragtime:

Links

Here are some useful jazz links.  I will add to them as I go along.



- The Red Hot Jazz Archive.  A site devoted to early jazz.

- Jazz 100.  Publishes its own poll of "Top Jazz Albums", both "Classic" and "New Breed".

- Jazzwise Magazine. The UK's Biggest Selling Jazz Magazine.

- DownBeat Magazine.  American magazine devoted to "jazz, blues and beyond".

A word on sources.

The main sources I will be using will be:

Books:

*Ted Gioia, (1997), The History of Jazz, New York: Oxford University Press.

*Alyn Shipton, (2007), A New History of Jazz, Revised and Updated Edition: New York and London: Continuum.

*Brian Morton & Richard Cook, (2010), The Penguin Jazz Guide: the History of the Music in the 1001 Best Albums. London and New York: Penguin.

James Lincoln Collier, (1978), The Making of Jazz, a Comprehensive History. London: Papermac.

Nat Shapiro and Nat Hentoff (eds), (1955), Hear Me Talkin' To Ya.  (My edition, 1992, London: Souvenir Press).

Mervyn Cooke, (1998), Jazz: world of art, London: Thames & Hudson.

Carr, Fairweather, & Priestley, (1987), Jazz: the Essential Companion, London: Paladin.

Nat Shapiro & Nat Hentoff, eds, (1957), The Jazz Makers, New York: Da Capo.

Frederic Ramsey Jr. and Charles Edward Smith (eds), (1958), Jazzmen, London: Sidgwick & Jackson, The Jazz Book Club.  (I will try to use this volume critically.  By all means read it, but read it with caution).

I will try to remember to give page numbers where I provide direct quotes. These books all have much to commend them, and you may wish to buy your own copies.

I will refer to other books along the way, which I will provide details of as I go.

DVDs:
Ken Burns' Jazz.  TV mini-series, 2001.

There is a lot of good stuff in this DVD box, although the series was unsatisfactory in some respects, not least at the beginning and at the end.  But I don't want to be churlish, and I do own a copy.  As with Jazzmen, watch it, but watch it critically.  (Here's a critique from CounterPunch by Jeffrey St. Clair: Now, That's Not Jazz).

Websites:

Wikipedia is, of course,  a good source for many things you might not have on your own shelves.  I will sometimes link to particular articles or pictures there.

I have also made a separate post for useful web links.  Especially useful for early jazz profiles is The Red Hot Jazz Archive.

1. In the beginning...

In this blog, I will be surveying jazz from its beginnings right up to the present day.  Along the way I will pick out artists of note, and recommend tracks and CDs.  Where available, I will link to tracks on YouTube.

If you want to play at home, you might want to get hold of Ted Gioia, (1997), The History of Jazz, and possibly also Brian Morton & Richard Cook, (2010), The Penguin Jazz Guide: the History of the Music in the 1001 Best Albums.

See if you agree with my picks and my reasons.

The challenge: beginning our time line

The first problem we have is where to start. It is generally thought that jazz coalesced out of two main streams of African- American music that circulated at the end of the 19th Century/beginning of the 20th Century: ragtime and blues.

Scott Joplin

As ever, things aren’t quite as simple as that. Black pianists like Scott Joplin came to prominence after appearing at the World's Fair in Chicago in 1893, and starting the ragtime craze. However, they didn’t come from nowhere: Joplin (from Texas) says he was trying to imitate, on piano, the banjo style he had heard black musicians play in the plantations of the South; some of his early sheet music carries the instruction, “in the banjo style”. These are the same roots that blues music grew from.


“Rag time” means the music is played in ragged – that is, uneven - time; in other words, it is syncopated. Melody lines are played out of kilter with a steady left hand bass. And we hear the sort of thing Joplin said he was imitating in the early country blues, in players like Mississippi John Hurt. (Though of course by the time Hurt recorded, he would have heard both ragtime and jazz).  So, rather than being two separate streams that joined to become jazz, ragtime and blues in some respects are descendants of a common ancestor.

Genre fluidity 
However, rather than being separate and fenced off, they seemed to recombine and re-pollinate each other. Classic jazz as we understand it is primarily played by a brass and woodwind front line, and country blues by string ensembles. But in the very early days this seems to have been fluid: there are very early recordings of string ensembles playing music that can be described as proto- jazz. Freddie Keppard, for example, played violin and mandolin before switching to cornet. Early in the history of jazz, violins would sometimes carry the melody in an otherwise brass setting. There was also a change in fashion between tuba and double bass to carry the bass part, which seems to go in the opposite direction of the more general strings to brass shift. And whether the musicians were playing ragtime, what later became known as jazz, or blues seems not to have mattered much to them: for example listen to the early recordings of New Orleans blues guitarist Lonnie Johnson to hear the way string ensembles of violin, mandolin, guitar could play jazz or blues.

The era of sound recordings

The next problem we have is that the very first jazz music was never recorded. It was played by black performers, often for black audiences. Those very early audiences didn’t have the money to buy records, and it didn’t occur to the record producers to record it. (Not, that is, until later, when white audiences – with the cash to buy records – got interested in jazz). Thus Buddy Bolden, regarded by musicians such as Louis Armstrong, Bunk Johnson, and Jelly Roll Morton as at least being important in the foundation of jazz, and by some as being the progenitor, was never recorded. (There is a legend that he may have made a recording on a paper disc, or cylinder, but it has never surfaced).

Buddy Bolden

Bolden, an alcoholic, was diagnosed with dementia praecox and committed to an asylum in 1907, never to return to the music scene. None of his contemporaries was recorded until over a decade later - some considerably later than that - by which time fashions in jazz had moved on, and we can’t know whether those players had been influenced by later trends and modified their own styles through time. Bolden’s most famous tune was “Funky Butt”; see Humphrey Littleton’s reconstruction here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5tZcwmw8M4

When jazz became widely popular in the so-called Jazz Age of the 1920s, those very early artists were still around. But nobody then thought to seek them out and ask them about their experiences, or what they sounded like in the beginning. For one thing jazz was all about the next innovation, not the out-of-date sounds of yesteryear, and for another thing, those were poor, provincial blacks. Oral historians weren’t much interested in them at the time.

Acoustical recording
The other distorting fact we have is the recording process itself. In very early recording, sound was collected mechanically rather than electronically. Musicians played into a horn rather than microphones. (Acoustical recording). This method was not good at reproducing drums, pianos, or even plucked double bass. Often jazz bands were recorded without those instruments, or with drummers and pianists asked to tone down or modify what they played. This was bound to have a knock-on effect on the way other instruments played. Without the bass or drum part you are used to, you will not be propelled to play the way you normally play.

Acoustical recording

Even in the early electrical era, the reproduction of sounds was poor. (We’ll never know how Bix Beiderbecke sounded in the flesh). It was much worse in the acoustical era.

Also, playing time was restricted by what would fit on one side of a disc. There were no LPs until decades later! Add to that the unfamiliar environment, the fact that recording technicians often interfered by telling musicians how to play, and the fact that some bands – ironically concerned with posterity – didn’t improvise as freely in recording sessions as they would in a dance hall (Jelly Roll Morton, for example, more or less dictated the parts his recording bands should play), and you get the picture of a music ill-served by the early technology and recording industry.

What’s in a name?
 Books are often fairly coy about where the word “jazz” comes from; perhaps unsurprisingly, as it seems to have been a term for male sexual juices, which then became slang for doing something with vigour (similar to the word “spunk”). It doesn’t seem to be used as a term for a music genre until around 1915, although prior to that musicians may have talked of jazzing their performance up, meaning giving more oomph and wow to the proceedings. Many of the early exponents of the music seem to have gone on preferring to call the music they played “ragtime”, even though “ragtime” no long accurately described what they did, and even long after the term jazz gained public acceptance in describing the genre. Buddy Bolden, it is almost certain, never called his music “jazz”. Even Kid Ory went on talking of ragtime long into the 20s.

So what are the attributes of jazz? In the very early part of the 20th Century, it was syncopated music, featuring African-descended polyrhythmic ideas, and African tonality, specifically blue notes on the 3rd and 7th of the scale, and some degree of improvisation. And most of all, it swung.

The musicians playing it had imbibed ideas from European music, from the folk music of neighbouring poor whites, from the Caribbean, and some element of Latin dance music that Jelly Roll Morton called the “Spanish Tinge”. New Orleans was a cauldron of cultures and music, and jazz was neither African nor European, but American.

Choosing a starting point
The first band calling itself a jazz band to make a record was a white band. They were called the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. Their first release was “Livery Stable Blues”. However, their sound is not typical of early jazz, and their music – especially this first record – was novelty music, which seems to find cheap humour in black music in a way somewhat akin to minstrelsy. It lacks a deep passion and understanding, and is played for laughs. (My dubiety towards the sincerity is only amplified by leader Nick LaRocca’s overt racism in his later self-promoting writing). Their records also contained little by the way of improvisation: each chorus is played much the same way as the last.

Louis Armstrong and Bix Beiderbecke were among those who rated them, and some of their tunes – such as Tiger Rag – became standards in the hands of others, but looking back I don’t hear what they heard. They have a certain charm taken on their own terms, and were hugely popular and had an enormous effect on the popularization of jazz music, but I don’t think they are representative of jazz of the time. I’m not choosing the ODJB as a starting point; they weren’t the beginning, they only got into the studio first.

Instead, I’m opting for Freddie Keppard.

Find out why soon...

Suggested reading: Gioia, T, (1997), The History of Jazz. Chapters 1 & 2.
Shipton, A, (2007), A New History of Jazz, Revised and Updated Edition. Chapter 1.