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The title alone of Jimmy Heath's marvelous memoir speaks volumes about the man. The NEA Jazz Master is himself an acknowledged giant among his peers and his choice to name the book as he did is an indication of both his great humility and self-effacing humor (in this case regarding his height). Heath is a clever wordsmith (the book contains an appendix listing the numerous nicknames he has bestowed upon his colleagues) and an astute chronicler of the events within and surrounding his life, making his entertainingly told story as much social history as autobiography.
Beginning with the affectionate foreword by fellow Philadelphian Bill Cosby, we are made aware of the important role family played in the musical development of the saxophonist and his two equally accomplished siblings, Percy Heath and Albert "Tootie" Heath, world renowned as the Heath Bothers. Wynton Marsalis' introduction is only the first of the volume's numerous testimonials heaping praise upon a man possessed with too much humility to blow his own horn with the unmitigated passion with which his many colleagues speak of him.
Heath doesn't mince words when speaking of his drug addiction, incarceration or the unpleasant aspects of the music business and it is his unabashed honesty that is a great part of the book's refreshing charm. Yet overall this is a tome of a life full of great joy and few regrets.
I was first exposed to jazz when I was studying at the University of Puerto Rico. Nearby, I found a little record shop where the music coming from the store (Taller de Jazz Don Pedro) made me stop. I walked down the short stairs and towards the music and learned that the music playing was Clifford Brown and Max Roach
I was first exposed to jazz when I was studying at the University of Puerto Rico. Nearby, I found a little record shop where the music coming from the store (Taller de Jazz Don Pedro) made me stop. I walked down the short stairs and towards the music and learned that the music playing was Clifford Brown and Max Roach. I fell in love with it. I wondered around until the owner (Pedro Soto) asked if I needed help. He then introduced me to John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Gerry Mulligan and the rest is history. I walked out of the store with my first jazz recording: Clifford Brown and Max Roach at Basin Street.