As Nat Hentoff says, "Hearing Bix for the first time was like waking up to the first day of spring." Bix has always inspired such acclaim, for he was an unmatched master of the cornet. Ralph Berton was privileged enough to have been a fan -- and younger brother of Bix's drummer -- just as Beiderbecke's genius was flowering, before he died in 1931 at age twenty-eight. Listening from behind the piano, tagging along to honky-tonks and jam sessions, Berton heard some of the most extraordinary music of the century, and he brings Bix and his era alive with a remarkable combination of the excitement of youth and the perspective of the five decades that followed -- decades that confirmed Bix's place in the pantheon of jazz.
We tend to think of the "roaring 20s" as an era that was wild, yet somehow still somewhat innocent and safe. In fact it was just as reckless and harmful as today's times. Ralph Berton, kid brother of legendary jazz drummer and tympanist Vic Berton, writes this memoir in a startlingly open fashion about his adolescence during the period among the "hot jazz" world. His vaudeville family is part bohemian, part intellectual, 100% debaucherous by even today's standards (Mummy is only slightly disapproving when one of Vic's flapper groupies sleeps with 13-year old Ralph - so long as nothing harms the family's supreme value of "one's talent").
Enter Bix Beiderbecke, long regarded as the ethereal angel of the jazz cornet with the tragic Achilles' heel of alcoholism, to this zany and often heedless family. As a discovery of sorts of older brother Vic, he crashes out in the family guest room, drinking openly while working out musical aspirations on the house piano, before stumbling off to gigs and parties in the nightlife of 1926 Chicago. With so little recorded in terms of anything Bix said or wrote to reveal his character, Berton's candid and vivid recollection from hanging out with him for the better part of the Spring and Summer of that year is a beautifully verbose account. The scene of the two of them exploring Chicago's black south side while young Ralph should be in school is priceless, and the episode of a kids baseball game Bix fills in for is nothing short of cinematic. His overall depiction of Bix, like many, remains that of an aloof, spaced-out hipster who is utterly obsessed with what was then still an underground art form - jazz. But the details are personal and special. His descriptions of Bix's painfully never-fully recognized drive to relate jazz to modern classical goes far beyond the dumbed-down mission depicted in Young Man With A Horn of just trying to find "that perfect note". He is similar to many a modern rock figure in some ways. We don't really get any new information about the man, Berton does a great job of confirming much of Beiderbecke's story without added unnecessarily to its mystique.
Perhaps the best aspect of the book however is Berton's actual writing style and personal observations about what was just so remarkable about the 1920s itself. His first-hand observations are combined with the maturity of 50 years after the fact, combined with the freedom to express himself profoundly (sometimes somewhat profanely) from the vantage point of 1974. His professorial musings on the effect of the automobile, World War I, the dawn of urban development and life under prohibition are an invaluable testimony from one who was there...and they are grippingly written.
A substantial detraction from the book is the number of disputes that exist about Berton's accuracy and possible invention in regards to fact around Bix himself. Berton does much to offset any likelihood of such future critique by often allowing that his memory may not serve him so well after 50 years, but there are some tales it would just be a bummer to learn weren't true. After all, he grabs our trust in the beginning by stating that he wishes to debunk a lot of the iconic loftiness of Bix's legend. But, for example, he just sort of graces over the revelation of Bix having had an erotic affair with his other brother Gene that is shared as they grieve upon hearing of his death. It may be that this is indeed how and when such an event came to Ralph Berton's attention, but it comes off as either improperly placed or salaciously tossed in for a racy effect. Perhaps just a shitty bit of gossip.
Also disappointing is Berton's pointing his finger at the Beiderbecke family's cold unappreciativeness of Bix' gift to the jazz world, in effect blaming them for his drinking himself to death. Nowadays, most know that alcoholism is something that one HAS, not something that is done to somebody. Berton's righteousness is a bit hard to take given his own account of the pain and hurt feelings that came out of his own "free" family's behavior, including his (seducing his brother's wife as she becomes disenchanted with her husband's all-night partying and cheating, for example).
HOWEVER - this book is a very fun read. For jazz fans and historical novel lovers alike. Highly recommended.
one of my favorite books of all time...an endearing glimpse into the world of music and into a life saturated with musical sensibility... berton paints a loving portrait of a troubled soul in his depiction of bix...you won't soon forget this book and the stories it tells... highly, highly recommended
This book is not a traditional biography. It’s largely a memoir of a friendship between the author when he was at the start of his teens and the great jazz musician Bix Beiderbecke.
The author makes it fairly clear that there are different stories about the final years of Bix’s life. He also makes it clear that there is a lot of embroidery that has been done to the facts of Bix’s life.
The author makes it clear what he himself observed. I am partial to oral histories, and this book is closer to that in nature. I also appreciate that it’s very well written. There are biographies of some of my favorite musicians where I gave up in frustration due to bad writing and lack of information being imparted.
Warning: This book was written around 1973 and has direct quotations from the 20s. As a result, the N-word is used freely quoting those conversations from a century ago.
We still miss Bix. Thanks for the music. This book is half Bix Beiderbecke biography, half the story of 13-14 year old Ralph Berton touring the country with his older brother Vic & Bix while they perform in various nightclubs, speakeasies, coal-town kitchens, and from their cars as they travel down the road. A great portrait of prohibition era / jazz age life for a touring musician with unflinching views of race relations in the USA in the 1920s, and the oppression of black musicians by white society.
Ralph Berton’s Remembering Bix, A memoir of the Jazz Age, is told from the perspective of a precocious 13-year-old Ralph who unabashedly tells about his oldest brother Vic, a brilliant jazz percussionist, and his other brother Gene, a classical pianist and a homosexual. The book is a tribute of high praise to Bix, who Ralph idolizes, but Ralph is also a keen observer who has a fine ear for the music that is the milieux in which Bix lives. Sweet, nostalgic, and enchanting.
Well i tried to enjoy this book but it was worse than i expected I don’t even have to mention that it’s a 400 pages book written by a 70 yrs old man reminiscing IN DETAIL about when he was 13 yrs old !! I can’t believe people still take this book seriously
An uncensored time-trip to the age of sex, booze, some drugs, hot jazz, and of course, Bix, looking back from the nineteen-seventies, almost jazz in itself.