Keith Jarrett was quite the looker in his younger days. Sorry, Keith, that’s all I got.
Jazz Instrumental
John Coltrane
When I was in high school, it was fashionable among some teenage boys to claim that Jim Morrison was God. (This was during one of the umpteenth Doors revivals.) But as far as I know, John Coltrane is the only musician who has an actual church named after him. Which seems appropriate—for my “Welcome to heaven” song (stop laughing), I’m going to ask them to skip the harps and just play the opening movement to “A Love Supreme.”
Jelly Roll Morton
In my next life, I want to have a cool nickname like “Jelly Roll.” And with all respect to my Polish ancestors, I would also like a smoother-sounding last name. Peanut Butter Sadusky doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.
Horace Silver
“Song for My Father” is one of those landmark songs that everybody knows, even if they don’t know what it’s called or who it’s by. If either of my sons ever writes a song for me (hint), I hope … well, actually I don’t care if it becomes popular. It would just be nice.
Herbie Hancock
Herbie Hancock’s Joni Mitchell cover album, River: The Joni Letters, won the Album of the Year Grammy in 2008 and went to #5 on the Billboard 200. It was his highest-charting album ever, and higher than any actual Joni Mitchell album in over 30 years. Which doesn’t have a whole lot to do with anything, except I like to mention Joni Mitchell as often as possible in these posts. (Hancock also did a Gershwin cover album where Joni sings an absolutely amazing version of “The Man I Love.” For the record, he has also recorded about 1,000 albums that have nothing to do with Mitchell.)
Groove Instrumental
Alternately known as “bachelor pad music,” which implies “music for straight dudes.” As a gay man, I guess my soundtrack is supposed to include Madonna or Judy Garland—but I’d rather listen to “Grazing in the Grass” any day.
Fats Waller
I’ve got nothing for Fats Waller, except to point out that at some point in our history, being called “fat” was apparently not an insult.
Django Reinhardt
My old roommate Bobby (sorry, “Robert”) was always trying to get me to listen to people like Django Reinhardt. I thought he was just being a snob. Later he became a travel writer, living in places like Paris and Brazil. So I guess “snob” means, “way more cultured than me.” Sorry, Robert.
Playlist of the Day 