But Beautiful: A Book About Jazz

I suspect that most aficionados of modern jazz will appreciate, even treasure, BUT BEAUTIFUL. It is notoriously difficult (impossible, really) to write satisfactorily about music - whether classical or jazz. But Dyer comes closer than most.The bulk of the book consists of imaginative profiles of Lester Young, Bud Powell, Ben Webster, Charles Mingus, Chet Baker, Art Pepper, and Thelonious Sphere Monk ("Melodious Thunk" to Nellie, his beloved wife and intermediary with the outside world). "Imaginative" because Dyer admittedly improvised on the historical facts of their lives, much as jazz musicians improvise on a theme. Much is embellishment, where Dyer tells about an historical event (such as Chet Baker getting his teeth knocked out or Lester Young's troubles in the Army) through, in part, invented dialogue and action. Some episodes, however, are completely fictitious. Still, Dyer writes, "these scenes were * * * intended as commentary either on a piece of music or on the particular qualities of a musician. What follows, then, is as much imaginative criticism as fiction."This blurring of fact and fiction might make some readers feel a little uneasy (as it does me), but at least Dyer is up front about it and I do sense that the picture that emerges approaches a generalized plane of "truth" that is beyond more conventional and rigorous biographical/historical narratives.Interlaced between the profiles is a series of vignettes of Duke Ellington and Harry Carney on the road, driving to their next job, Duke either sleeping or jotting down ideas for compositions on stray envelopes and paper napkins and then stuffing them in the glovebox. The book ends with a 33-page afterword, entitled "Tradition, Influence, and Innovation". In this essay, which for me was the best part of the book (or at least, the part that I am most likely to re-read), Dyer discusses the history of jazz post-WWII and some of the defining characteristics of jazz and jazz musicians, especially recurrent ones that wove in and out of the profiles.The writing style is unusual - hip, noir-ish, frenetic, and modern. Usually it is successful, even brilliant, but at times it is overdone, at times it is sentimental, and on occasion it turns plain ugly. But that's jazz. The title comes from a conversation (imagined?) between Art Pepper and a married woman he is trying to talk into bed after having just been released from prison. (Perhaps the title is intentionally semi-ironic?)The profiled musicians were all misfits, to varying degrees. One of the points Dyer highlights in the afterword is that jazz is notable for "its capacity to raise to the level of genius those who would otherwise have lacked a medium to express themselves." Going hand in hand is the propensity for jazz musicians to destroy themselves through drugs and booze. Why so? For one thing, jazz puts such a premium on individual creativity and a stance of rebellion, or at least flouting tradition and the establishment. In addition, a certain measure of emulation of the great Charlie Parker (or, later, of Coltrane, or Miles Davis, or Art Blakey, or Art Pepper) surely was at work, at least with many. But even making allowances for drugs, alcohol, and the odd hours and typically bohemian lifestyle of a jazz musician, several of these figures were at bottom pathetic and deplorable, even reprehensible, people - especially Mingus, Baker, and Pepper (with regards to Pepper, see the tale of the skewered chihuahua). But beautiful?I will close with a small sampling of quotes from the book: "It wasn't that jazz musicians died young, they just got older quicker."Re Monk: "There were days when he was stranded between things, when the grammar of moving through the day, the syntax holding events together fell apart. Lost between words, between actions, not knowing something as simple as getting through a door, the rooms of the apartment becoming a maze." Also: "You had to see Monk to hear his music properly. The most important instrument in the group--whatever the format--was his body. He didn't play the piano really. His body was his instrument and the piano was just a means of getting the sound out of his body at the rate and in the quantities he wanted. * * * His body fills in all the gaps in the music; without seeing him it always sounds like something's missing but when you see him even piano solos acquire a sound as full as a quartet's. The eye hears what the ear misses." "Electronic instruments define themselves in relation to--and partake of the quality of--din. Acoustic instruments define themselves in relation to--and partake of the quality of--silence. For this reason acoustic instruments will always have a greater purity."

Beautfully written, muscular, evocative and poetic like the men and music it describes.

This work, along with James Baldwin's short story, "Sonny's Blues," is as good as any I've read about the jazz life, its creators and innovators, and the high cost of such terrible beauty. I had the advantage of being present while Lester was lost on stage in an alcoholic stupor; Monk was dancing around the piano, knocking over cymbals, rather than playing the instrument; Chet Baker, unable to stand, was expending his last breaths on "The Thrill Is Gone"; and Duke was waiting for Harry Carney to swing by with the car to chauffeur him through the wintry night from Kenosha, Wisconsin to Kansas City. But how a young writer like Dyer managed to capture these moments before his time, freezing them unforgettably in a literary living moment, I can't imagine.Dyer knows that the foremost responsibility of a music critic is not to critique but to verbalize his non-verbal subject, bringing it to life for the reader. He does so admirably, creating believable, recognizable, fascinating portraits in unlabored, unpretentious prose.His portraits of the artist ring completely true to the ears of this fellow observer--penetrating glimpses of the creative child trapped in a man's body now reduced to fighting a losing battle against physical and mental entropy. Yet his faith in the living tradition of jazz is refreshing, as is his characterization of the jazz musician's struggle as a valiant contest with the precursor, not unlike that of the strong poet's.Though there's an elegaic tone throughout the book, it's never ponderous or depressing. In fact, its human portraits are more likely to interest newcomers than the many text books that catalog styles and names.This is not to say the book is without shortcomings. The author is much better at capturing the musicians for us than their music. And his appreciation and understanding of Duke Ellington's music seems somewhat limited. Too bad he didn't give at least as much attention to the colorful cast of characters on the band bus as to the private conveyance preferred by Duke.Yet any listener who has the slightest interest in jazz and its makers simply cannot afford to pass this one up. And it goes a long way toward fleshing out some of the caricatures served up on the Ken Burns' television series.

Dyer is a gifted writer who clearly listened closely to most or all the recorded playing of seven or eight different jazz legends and then created a series of fictional, biographical jazz short stories which attempted to describe each player’s artistic output by way of an imagined internal psychological dialogue. Dyer can string creative and interesting sentences together and held my interest in spurts, but he chose to write almost exclusively about jazz musicians whose careers were dramatically affected and shortened by alcoholism and drug addiction. The only musician in the book who was not an addict is Duke Ellington and he gives Duke relatively short shrift.The author is bright and he may well have made correct guesses about each musician’s psychological mental set and its mix with booze and drugs; but since his focus was always about the severely degraded playing ability due to advanced addiction, after fifty pages or so the book became a bore. In the final section the author asks an interesting question about the role of art criticism as related to jazz; but this does not justify reading the book. I’m surprised this work got good reviews. To me it did jazz a disservice. Once again—as with almost every jazz film ever made—the primary focus is on the dysfunction of the artist, not the beauty of his music.

Couldn't put this down.

I am an old codger. I have been a jazz fan since I was 14 years old. I’ve read a lot about jazz musicians and the music. This is the best book that I’ve ever read on jazz. Mr. Dyer‘s style in writing about this wonderful music is completely original. It’s full of surprises and interesting turns, just like the music.

This is a book every fan of jazz should have in their jacket pocket. It's a clever book and well written. The descriptions paint many pictures.Artists written about include Lester Young, Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell, Ben Webster, Charles Mingus, Chet Baker, Art Pepper and Duke Ellington respectfully. The difficult attempt to define jazz and explain it's draw and appeal is added at the end of the book and it's a great (referenced) attempt. The author, Geoff Dyer, sure knows his stuff!It would have been even better if more photographs were included, as the words were apparently built around observing those classic black and white jazz images. And an album containing the various artists would make a good release! Or at least a Spotify playlist to provide some decent music to enhance what is a good read!Overall, an entertaining read which reinforced my love of the music called JAZZ.

This book was written more than twenty years ago; I discovered it by chance many years ago and have read it at least three times. It takes a quite unique approach and is what it says it is "a book about jazz". It is written in two sections; the first part a series of essays; short pieces of fiction based on fact in the style of a prose narrative. The second part an extended essay on the state of jazz "today" (1991).For the first part we have a series of scenes: firstly detailing the close relationship between Duke Ellington and Harry Carney. Then there are chapters on aspects in the lives of some great musicians e.g. Chet Baker, Lester Young, Thelonious Monk, Charles Mingus, Art Pepper. I have read tens of books on jazz and this approach is absolutely unique. O.K. Some of the "factual" events may be imagined but Geoff Dyer captures absolutely the misery of Lester Young's ordeal during his conscription into the Army, and other ordeals encountered by the other musicians named above. The writing is beautiful but the subject matter isn't. It shows in full detail the squalid, lonely, unhappy lives of so many of our heroes.The second section is an observation of the outcome of the rapid evolution of jazz in less than 100 years. An interesting conclusion that I am in sympathy with.Thoroughly recommended and of such quality that it improves on second and subsequent readings. Certainly a MUST for any follower of the music and an insight into the lives of musicians, especially jazz musicians who find themselves improvising in public new music every night; no other art form makes such demands.no wonder so many had such short lives and resulted to the abuse of stimulants.

Not so sure about this 'novel'. Based on some research on a jazz musicians but heavily based on descriptions of photos in story form it doesn't hold together particularly well.So very little of the book features any live performances or any of the musicians either at the beginning of their careers or at the height of their powers. This is focused mostly at the end of their days. Therefore incredibly depressing. Especially Bud Powell, Monk and Pres.Of those featured I found art pepper's story the most engaging ( though not ever been a fan of his music) and Mingus was well represented. This was about 50 pages out of 180. The rest was difficult reading.The book features both an essay on the history of jazz and a select discography. This is the best part of book and is fairly interesting albeit a very high level summary, and fairly literary (a lot of literary criticism and poetry references) No vocal jazz is mentioned; big bands are pretty non existent; it would have been interesting to mention artists such as sun ra under the black rights. Free jazz is almost mostly ignored as noise. But still it reads well and gives some background to the genre.In terms of the jazz novel I'm not sure it works. Probably best to read the beat literature in the 50s , mostly Kerouac (de sax for example). But I find these sorts of writing as mixed at best. I don't quite agree that the fictional equivalent is either making up streams of consciousness or riffing on known events. Given along of jazz is a written intro and outro but with an improvisation in-between this is like most novels.Still the book has a good subject matter and parts were engaging. I didn't learn much but it wasn't difficult to finish. Could have been so much better though.

a special book, invaluable to those seeking to get closer to understanding what makes a jazz musician tick, how he tocks, and what happens when the clockwork jams! Dyer attempts, and succeeds, to write like a jazzman, adopting scene-setting intros, flights of fancy, hard riffage, light, shade ,nuance, brutal fragility......but above all he seems to love and know Jazz, and his love for some of its greatest exponents is made flesh in this affecting eulogy to his and our heroes. he makes these giants seem human, real, and adds a layer of appreciation and understanding to the music as a result. ben webster taking a bath and making coffee to ease his hangover; chet baker late on a dope payment being smashed in the mouth with a ketchup bottle and stumbling out of a diner into the san francisco heat; bud powell found huddled and scared in a doorway by a cop who (this-time) happened to be his greatest fan; lester young, monk...all rendered human and as a result we get closer to their superhuman abilities and contributions. very readable and re-readable too! worth it!!

Sublime jazz vignettes of some major figures, not loads of exhaustive facts but a snapshot like a Francis Wolf photo in prose . Best I can do, read it yourself.