What a fun project this must have been for T.J. English. If it was as much fun to write as it was to read, he would’ve had a blast putting this together. I can imagine how enormous and complex his outline must have been, with the myriad overlaps and intertwinements of two topics as rich as jazz and organized crime. Few other subjects offer as many dot-connecting opportunities as jazz and organized crime, and T.J. English is both an expert dot-connector and a master distiller. Like a finely blended whiskey, “Dangerous Rhythms” combines two entities into one bottle, and the finished product is tasty, well-balanced, and intoxicating.
English’s first book, “The Westies” is a classic in the true mob genre, and his subsequent books have never failed to pique my interest and command my attention. I bought “Dangerous Rhythms” not knowing that I was sourced therein for my book, “The Mafia and the Machine: The Story of the Kansas City Mob.” When I discovered this, I was thrilled, because T.J. English is the writer I would aspire to be if I were a pro instead of an amateur. Having tracked his progress, I’m pleased to report that in my opinion, “Dangerous Rhythms” is his best book since “The Westies.”
That’s not to say I don’t have some criticisms. I noticed a few mistakes, and I would quibble with some of his interpretations and assertations. There were also a couple of notable omissions. First is the virtual absence of Harry Anslinger, who investigated and prosecuted mobsters and jazz musicians contemporaneously. Anslinger is a key figure in the jazz-mafia-heroin nexus, and his impact on mafiosi and jazz musicians was significant. English briefly and peripherally refers to him one time, but Anslinger’s virtual absence is conspicuous.
Another missed opportunity was the Moulin Rouge Hotel and Casino in West Las Vegas. Notable for its location in the black part of town and as the first integrated casino, the MR belonged in this book, but didn’t make it in.
Another complaint: Mr. English knows how the publishing game is played. How do you get the best reviews, endorsements, and shelf space? Well, we all know it helps if you express solidarity and fealty to the establishment ideology. And what is the establishment ideology in the literary-academic-publishing-library-bookstore-Hollywood nexus? Why, anti-capitalism, of course.
Fashionable (and wealthy) socialists like Cornell West are unlikely to write your cover endorsement without some socialism-supporting content. English seems to have endeared himself to West by associating capitalism with organized crime, but not with jazz. Every time capitalism is mentioned it’s disparaged and placed in the context of gangsterism. Never mind that jazz is the ultimate meritocracy and the most competitive of the arts; or that it could only have happened in a free market economy; or that every musician was an entrepreneur and every band a business; or that deregulation and freedom and individualism are inherent to the music; or that the vast majority of jazz greats prospered under capitalism even as some were ripped off by criminals; or that capitalism encouraged integration to happen organically within the fiercely competitive world of jazz; or that a company like Blue Note Records epitomizes the positive attributes of private enterprise, or that socialists in Cuba literally BANNED jazz because it was so representative of America and capitalism.
Don’t get me wrong: English does not explicitly endorse socialism. My hunch is that he’s not a socialist, but he knows how to play the game. This includes towing the line on the silly new orthodoxy that requires writers to capitalize “Black” while leaving “white” in lower case. It’s especially silly when the descriptors appear in the same sentence, with “Black” capitalized, and “white” in lower case. English, or his editor, even changes “black” to “Black” in old quotes from old books and other pre-capitalization sources. My hunch is that he finds this to be a bit of an eye-rolling exercise in political fealty, but what are you gonna do?
And finally, I was hurt by English referring to Joe Glaser as Mary Lou Williams’ “former Pimp Daddy.” It’s true that Glaser was a former pimp, but Mary was never a prostitute, and I’d hate for anyone to think she was, because she wouldn’t like that. I’m an adoring superfan of Mary Lou Williams and I feel protective of her legacy. I know English did not mean to imply that of Mary. He treats her with all due respect, and even reverence. This seems to have just been an uncharacteristic lapse in discretion that unintentionally tainted Mary with her former manager’s slime. But for the record, Mary Lou Williams was never a prostitute and she never had a pimp daddy!
Despite all this criticism, this is terrific book. It’s well researched, well written, entertaining and informative. It’s authoritative but also accessible, and laymen will enjoy it alongside jazz afficionados and mafia historians, who will recognize many familiar stories but also find some fresh and surprising stuff. English is more of an arranger than a composer or a player, but let’s not underestimate the impact of great arrangers like Gil Evans or Horace Tapscott or Quincy Jones. For me, English is to non-fiction arranging what Bob Brookmeyer is to modern big band arranging: the best in the biz!