Herman Leonard, the famed jazz photographer passed away last weekend. He was 87. Here is some of his work:

Duke Ellington

Sinatra

Miles

Art Blakey

Dexter Gordon

Thank you, Mr. Leonard. You left us some bounty.

While we’re in the Eighties, here goes one of my favorites from those fun-lovin’ sombitches, Van Halen:

I was never a huge Van Halen head like some of my friends but their David Lee Roth records bring me back to middle school, and dag, a lot of those records really kicked ass. Still do, though Eddie’s guitar playing style sounds dated to me now. Can’t believe anyone would prefer Van Hagar to the original. Once they parted ways with Diamond Dave, they didn’t have the same magic.

Aw, hell, here’s another one that always makes me smile:

Not a big fan of this group, though I enjoyed their records before Synchronicity:

I started shopping for records at Fat Beats when they were in a tiny East Village hole, below street level. Mr. Sinister and Roc Raider were there, working or hanging out, I could never figure out which. A few years later, in the mid-90s, Fat Beats moved to a prime spot on Sixth Avenue just off Eighth Street. DJ Ei, Ill Bill and Eclipse were there, to name just a few. Percee P was always downstairs hawking mixtapes and showing off his skills.
 
I stopped buying records years ago now, though I still fall through places like Big City and A-1 to visit friends. Still, I’m sad, though hardly surprised, to see that Fat Beats is closing up shop in New York and L.A. When I worked in Hollywood for four months in 1996-97, I was a regular at Fat Beats in East L.A. Babu was there at the time, the whole Dialated Crew, guys like J-Rocc, too.

Certainly marks the end of an era.

Sniff.

Sometimes, life is good.

Witness:

Yanks are livin’ it right now, man:

Two of my favs…

Man, is it ever pleasant in the Rotten Apple today. The humidity is gone. Cool breeze, sun peaking out. Oh, yeah…

[Picture by Bags]

The Man…

In Walked Bud

 The Finer Things in Life

[Picture by Bags]

Stay Blue…

Blue Note week continues.

This one is a favorite…

Peace to Chyll Will for hipping me to this most gifted dude:

Actually, the sun is nowhere to be found this morning in the Bronx. But here’s Glenn Gould playing Bach–The Goldberg Variations, 1-7. A nice way to start the day:

Let’s git on der good foot this morning, shall we?

Breakfast with Bob.

From the stellar 1966 Playboy Interview:

PLAYBOY: Some of your old fans would agree with you – and not in a complimentary vein – since your debut with the rock-‘n’-roll combo at last year’s Newport Folk Festival, where many of them booed you loudly for “selling out” to commercial pop tastes. The early Bob Dylan, they felt, was the “pure” Bob Dylan. How do you feel about it?

DYLAN: I was kind of stunned. But I can’t put anybody down for coming and booing: after all, they paid to get in. They could have been maybe a little guieter and not so persistent, though. There were a lot of old people there, too; lots of whole families had driven down from Vermont, lots of nurses and their parents, and well, like they just came to hear some relaxing hoedowns, you know, maybe an Indian polka or two. And just when everything’s going all right, here I come on, and the whole place turns into a beer factory. There were a lot of people there who were very pleased that I got booed. I saw them afterward. I do resent somewhat, though, that everybody that booed said they did it because they were old fans.

PLAYBOY: What about their charge that you vulgarized your natural gifts?

DYLAN: What can I say? I’d like to see one of these so-called fans. I’d like to have him blindfolded and brought to me. It’s like going out to the desert and screaming and then having little kids throw their sandbox at you. I’m only 24. These people that said this – were they Americans?

The Beat Conductor vs Metal Face:

Short schedule here at the Banter this morning with an afternoon game on the schedule. Man, I’m still cranky about the past few days. Two hits last night? Got to be kidding me, man.

Feelin’ just ornery enough for some Cube–what up Loc?: