In a musical Manhattan cellar called Basin Street one night last week, a thin-haired bandleader used an unorthodox method to get his crew going on a fast number. Dropping into a distance-runner's stance, he stamped out four beats and shouted a hoarse, rapid-fire "Bow! Bow!" On the next beat the 15-man outfit exploded into a shrieking blast that turned out to be a wild-eyed, half-humorous version of Lover, Come Back to Me. To start quieter numbers, such as Pres. Conference, the bandleader preferred to count out the beat or snap his fingers, and the band followed through with a brooding performance...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
