https://www.worldradiohistory.com/Archive-All-Music/Down-Beat_copy%281%29.htm
DownBeat magazine was established in 1934 and has been the longest running publication in the U.S devoted exclusively to jazz. Recently, I was made aware of the link (above) to a portion of their website which makes available for the reader all their magazines from 1937-1999. Up until the 1980s, the magazine was published bi-monthly and over the last 45 years it has evolved into a monthly publication. (Issues from 2000 on can be purchased from the website for $10.) However, the opportunity to read about the great artists and their music at the time that their art was being created and made available for public consumption is a bonus for any true lover of the music. The writing is also superb in most cases with contributors like Leonard Feather, Gene Lees, Nat Hentoff, Ralph Gleason, etc. The colorful and creative front covers are a sign of the times when artwork was considered a necessity to promote magazines as well as LPs. Obviously, this is an invaluable resource for jazz historians and students but also an additional way to understand the culture surrounding the evolution of this great American art form. Here’s a little snippet of an article titled “The Return of Sonny Rollins” by Bill Coss from the January 4, 1962 edition of DownBeat. Enjoy!
A few weeks ago, tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins returned to the public jazz world from which he had voluntarily retired two years ago. On his opening night at New York’s Jazz Gallery, the large audience had an unabashed air of expectancy more familiar to a football stadium than a night club.
For Sonny Rollins has become a legend (“And that is pretty much why I did retire,” he remembers).
And that legend runs: musically and financially successful artist, respected by his fellows, accepted leader of a style of tenor saxophone playing, one of the originators of a kind of improvisation, suddenly leaves all behind to search his own music, his own soul, for reasons that can only be assumed. He makes no public announcement. It is a private affair. For two years, only rumors are available. The most often heard of these is about his playing daily on the Williamsburg Bridge. Then, beginning in the summer of 1961, there occur a half-dozen reports that the artist was ending his retirement. The reports prove true in November.
The public is eager to respond to legend, to participate in it in some way. On opening night, the club’s phone rings constantly. Batches of telegrams have arrived. Jim, Judy, Charles, Ceil, Mike, Margo (most of whom Sonny doesn’t know or doesn’t remember) have been sending him congratulations.
When he finally puts down the phone and moves toward the bandstand, there is a ripple of sound and movement preceding him, shouted hellos and exhortations. It is reminiscent of a championship fight, as Sonny is reminiscent of a championship fighter.
Tall, broad-shouldered, moving with masculine grace, he gives the impression of sure strength. Whitney Balliett says he resembles a genie. Certainly his long, large face has an Oriental cast to it, his head is shaven and his jaw is edged with a full and unpointed goatee.
But the prizefighter image is the strongest. Nowadays, he even sounds like ex-heavyweight champion Gene Tunney, advocating clean living, study, lots of exercise. “I’ve stopped smoking,” he says, “and cut down on the drinking, and I lift bar bells every day.”
Then he begins to play, and he wins every round. At the close of the set, the standing ovation makes it impossible for him to introduce the members of his group (Jim Hall, guitar; Bob Cranshaw, bass; Walter Perkins, drums). Off the stand he is immediately surrounded……