By Preston Love
Preston Love's resume reads like a who is Who of yankee track: member of the count number Basie Band in the course of its heyday within the 40s, studio musician in la, cohort of Jo Jones, Lester younger, Ray Charles, and Dizzy Gillespie, and back-up participant for Marvin Gaye, the enticements, Smokey Robinson, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight, and Stevie ask yourself. during this autobiography Love exhibits that, whereas the tune facilities of latest York, New Orleans, Chicago, and Kansas urban nurtured the advance of these uniquely African American varieties, jazz and the Motown sound, major contributions have been additionally being made via territory bands tirelessly appearing in outposts like St. Cloud, Minnesota, Guthrie, Oklahoma, and Honey Creek, Iowa.It was once within the latter city the place Love, a 15-year-old from the black ghetto of Omaha, made his musical debut. Captivated by way of the candy alto sax sounds of Earle Warren, Love took up the software and inside of a decade was once sitting in Warren's chair. yet Love's own odyssey is greater than a chronicle of unending bus rides, undesirable crowds in backwater golf equipment, and feast-or-famine funds continued en path to the head. In a particular and passionate voice he outlines major features of African American heritage: the significant value of the relatives in musical improvement, institutional racism in American pop culture, and the interracial nature of the track international. He additionally describes the expansion of the tune undefined, specially Motown, what he calls "the robust colossus from Detroit." Love's tale, instructed with uncanny reminiscence and unfailing honesty, offers a big view into the profession of a musician and the evolution of a big musical shape.
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Additional resources for A thousand Honey Creeks later: my life in music from Basie to Motown-- and beyond
In very recent years, however, the word "jazz" has become an even more elastic wordstretched by certain people and certain instrumentalists to cover any kind of musical garbage that couldn't be given any other musical label. The newest elasticity of the word has almost made it unacceptable to me all over again. I haven't become so much of an anachronism that I can't appreciate even the most far-out jazz if it is sincerely performed and has any real value. But I could never pretend to give my approbation to any of the charlatans who happen to become famous as "jazz" players simply because they happen to catch hit records or because they happen to receive more publicity and public attention than some of the true giants of jazz.
Of course, the cost of a new horn then was about one tenth of current prices. On the night that Dude arrived with the horn, each of us took turns holding the exotic object and fingering it. Then Dude treated us to a rudimentary concert lasting well into the night. His command of the instrument was very limited, and his fingering was quite awkward, but he had been an excellent ukulele player since his early teens, so he was not without some semblance of musical sensibility. Mex and all the neighborhood kids were enthralled.
Both my brother Ritchie and I enjoy popularity as saxophone players in the Omaha area, but we often call Dad in to play solos for recording dates in my brother's studio (located in Dad's basement). Many of the young singers and players even request Dad for their backup music. I don't think any book about Preston Love should neglect the musical aspect of his life, especially as seen through the eyes of younger musicians like myself and my contemporaries. Page xi Preface Johnny Otis With all his intellectual sharpness and artistic ability, I sometimes wonder if the most amazing thing about Preston Love might not be his uncanny memory.
A thousand Honey Creeks later: my life in music from Basie to Motown-- and beyond by Preston Love