Of course I had heard the Take Five single on the radio and thought it was terrific. But, when a
friend who also was into classical music told me that if I liked the
counterpoint in Bach and Mozart I should buy Brubeck’s album, I ran out and bought
it. And immediately fell in love with every track on the album. I was hooked,
big time, by the incredible, almost indescribably pulsating, complex rhythms
that the Quartet generated (especially by Paul Desmond’s soaring
interpretations of Brubeck’s chords). That first listening was almost a
religious experience; I'll never forget the thrill of hearing Blue Rondo a la Turk or Pick Up Sticks for the first time.
From that moment the Dave Brubeck Quartet was my favorite
jazz group. Well, followed very, very closely by John Lewis’s fantastic Modern
Jazz Quartet and then by Stan Getz's great tenor sax.
What wasn't obvious to me then but is in retrospect was that
at least part of my admiration for and fascination with Brubeck was his
insistence on playing with an integrated group, first in the Army during WWII
and later with Eugene Wright as his bassist. When Brubeck cancelled a number of
engagements in the early 1960s at concert halls and college campuses because he
refused to appear without “The Senator” on bass, I was pumped up by his principled
stand and his refusal to let money overrule his convictions. It matched my
personal commitment and felt exactly right.
Brubeck’s stand was an affirmation of the role art can play
in the real world, especially if artists are committed to living their
principles. It somewhat counteracted the searing revulsion I felt for the morally
challenged assholes in Hollywood, especially Walt Disney and Ronald Reagan, who made sure actors, writers, and directors were blacklisted and denied employment in the field
because of their political beliefs or associations, real or imagined. Brubeck
had the courage of his convictions and I loved him for it. Of course, his music made that all the easier.
