Straight Life - Art Pepper [69]
Time To Clean House With this in mind, please consider the possibility that it is time for the musicians, the jazz fans, and the musicians' union if necessary, to clean house. But good. It's up to bandleaders and bookers, sidemen and managers to see to it that the cancer is contained, that the infection is stopped and a thriving business, that is also an art and a way of life, is not penalized by the twisted attitudes and hysterical flight from reality of a very few. And they are, relatively, a few. Even though they may be a talented, articulate, and amazingly active few.
How can you respect a man who does not respect himself? There is no reality on Cloud 9, and there is no clearer perception of life. If the music business, itself, doesn't do something about it, we will all be losers in the long run. Frankly, I can think of no re-orientation too severe for certain of our so-called stars for their behavior in recent years. An addict is a shame and a disgrace to the very word "musician."
"Special Privilege" Gone Time was when camaraderie between the races and the colors and the factions in music was the rule. The residue of history when musicians were strolling players, a group apart, and as artists and special human beings enjoyed special privileges. It's getting so the word is one of opprobrium rather than praise.
Sure the papers exaggerate; sure the hysterical columnists shoot off a lot of nonsense. But you know what's happening, don't you? Is it good? No one can cure it but you. It's time the hipsters got their hip cards punched, but in the right place. down beat, December 2, 1953. Copyright 1953 by down beat. Reprinted by special permission.
(Shelly Manne) Drug use was prevalent among musicians then. That was why I originally left New York. People hitting on me for money to score. Leave something on the bandstand, turn around, and it's gone. Friendship goes right out the window. People turn into animals. But there are different extenuating circumstances in everybody's life: the need to be accepted by a group of peers who maybe are using drugs or alcohol at the time, the need to be accepted as one of the guys, the need to be considered hipper by doing that, by being a farout cat, or the discontent with one's own playing. Maybe he feels that a stimulant or a depressant might somehow enable him to get his head together so he can cut the crowd out and get totally into his playing. Who knows. There's a hundred reasons why. It might be something in your personal life which a friend wouldn't necessarily know about, in your background, in your bringing up, in your environment. It's too hard for me to speculate on why a guy would use heavy drugs or heavy alcohol. I know that to do it just for fun - smoke some pot, take a few drinks with the guys, just partying it up - or because there's a lot of tension on the road, just as a release, was cool. We used to have a lot of fun. We'd get stoned or something and just enjoy ourselves. But when you start getting into heavy drugs, you're getting into another area, and it's a terrible vicious circle because it's a losing battle all around. You're not only leading a life on the road that is debilitating to your body, to use heavy drugs as a relief from the stress of being on the road creates another disability to your body. And finally your body breaks down, and finally you break down, and finally you have no control or will power, and the whole thing just goes down the toilet.
I was fortunate because drugs scared the hell out of me. When I was young, in New York, playing on Fifty-second Street, when I was eighteen I looked fifteen, and all the musicians I was playing with-Ben Webster, Coleman Hawkins, Trummy Young, Dizzy-all those musicians, kinda were very protective. Even when I hung out in a saloon, the White Rose, on Fifty-second Street, with all those guys and somebody'd offer me a drink (I didn't like alcohol), they would put them down, "No, give him a Coke." I'm very grateful to them for that, being protected like that. And, of course,