Mezz Mezzrow
Milton Mesirow, better known as Mezz Mezzrow (November 9, 1899 – August 5, 1972), was an American jazz clarinetist and saxophonist of Jewish descent who rejected his upbringing in Chicago to immerse himself in African American jazz culture, Harlem nightlife, and marijuana distribution.[1][2][3] Born to middle-class Jewish parents, Mezzrow learned clarinet in reform school and pursued jazz amid juvenile delinquency, eventually relocating to New York where he recorded with figures like Sidney Bechet and organized integrated sessions during segregation.[1][4][5] His notoriety extended beyond music through supplying "muggles" or "jive"—high-quality marijuana—to jazz musicians, earning him the moniker "Mezz the reefer man," though his playing was often critiqued as limited in technique.[6][7] In 1940, arrested for drug trafficking, he refused to inform on suppliers despite police pressure, serving time at Rikers Island where he insisted on classification as "Negro" to join black inmates, reflecting his self-proclaimed "voluntary Negro" identity.[1][8][6] These experiences formed the basis of Really the Blues (1946), co-authored with Bernard Wolfe, a memoir blending jive vernacular with accounts of prison, addiction, and racial boundary-crossing that influenced beat literature despite criticisms of its racial essentialism.[3][9]Early Life
Family Background and Chicago Upbringing
Milton Mesirow, who later adopted the name Mezz Mezzrow, was born on November 9, 1899, in Chicago, Illinois, to Russian-Jewish immigrant parents.[10][11] His family belonged to Chicago's Jewish community, maintaining a middle-class status amid the city's early 20th-century immigrant enclaves.[12][6] In his autobiography, Really the Blues, co-authored with Bernard Wolfe, Mesirow described his upbringing as rooted in a "respectable" Jewish household, emphasizing traditional values that clashed with his emerging interests.[13][14] Mesirow's early years unfolded in Chicago's urban environment, where Jewish immigrants like his parents navigated economic opportunities in tailoring, commerce, and small trades, though specific parental occupations remain undocumented in primary accounts.[2] The family's stability provided a conventional framework—marked by religious observance and aspirations for assimilation—but Mesirow's exposure to the city's diverse street culture, including nascent jazz influences from Black neighborhoods, began eroding these norms by adolescence.[15] This tension between familial expectations and personal rebellion characterized his Chicago childhood, setting the stage for later deviations without yet involving formal delinquency.[3]Reform School and Initial Exposure to Jazz
Milton Mesirow, who later adopted the name Mezz Mezzrow, exhibited early signs of delinquency in Chicago, engaging in petty crimes that culminated in his arrest for car theft at age 16 in approximately 1915.[16][17] He was sentenced to the Pontiac Reformatory, a facility for youthful offenders in Illinois, where he served an extended term.[18][19] During his incarceration at Pontiac, Mesirow first encountered jazz and blues music, primarily through interactions with Black inmates and access to recordings.[6][18] These inmates introduced him to early jazz ensembles, including the Original Dixieland Jazz Band's "Livery Stable Blues" and King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band, which profoundly influenced his musical interests.[18] He befriended Black fellow inmates, who shared insights into Southern Jim Crow conditions and the cultural underpinnings of the music, fostering his affinity for Black American expression.[18] It was in this environment that Mesirow began learning the saxophone, marking his initial foray into playing jazz instruments under informal guidance from musically inclined prisoners.[12][16] This exposure transformed his recreational delinquency into a directed pursuit of jazz, as he practiced diligently amid the reformatory's constraints, laying the groundwork for his later professional endeavors.[6][17]Jazz Career
Entry into New York Scene and Early Recordings
Following his formative experiences in Chicago, where he contributed to the local jazz scene as a clarinetist and tenor saxophonist, Mezzrow relocated to New York City in the early 1930s to pursue broader opportunities amid the city's burgeoning jazz ecosystem.[7][17] There, he integrated into the competitive environment of Harlem and downtown clubs, performing in integrated ensembles that reflected his affinity for New Orleans-style improvisation amid the rising popularity of swing orchestras. His playing emphasized rhythmic drive and collective interplay, distinguishing him from the more commercial big-band trends, though he occasionally adapted to swing formats for session work.[7] Mezzrow's early recordings predated his full immersion in New York but laid the groundwork for his reputation, beginning with sideman appearances on tenor saxophone with the Chicago Rhythm Kings in 1927 and Eddie Condon's groups in 1928, capturing Chicago-style hot jazz tracks like "There'll Be Some Changes Made."[7][20] Upon establishing in New York, he transitioned to leading his own dates, debuting as bandleader in 1933 with Mezz Mezzrow and His Orchestra, a racially mixed group that recorded swing-inflected pieces emphasizing clarinet leads and ensemble swing. These sessions, often held in New York studios, highlighted collaborations with musicians like Frankie Teschemacher alumni and foreshadowed his role in organizing informal jam sessions.[7] By 1934, Mezzrow expanded his recording output with Victor sessions, such as "Old Fashioned Love" on May 7, featuring his clarinet in a small-group setting that blended traditional polyphony with emerging swing rhythms.[21] These efforts solidified his presence in the New York scene, where he bridged Chicago transplants and local Harlem talents, though his unorthodox tone and marijuana advocacy drew mixed reception from critics favoring polished virtuosity.[7]Key Collaborations and Session Organizing
Mezzrow organized and financed multiple recording sessions in the 1930s that emphasized traditional hot jazz amid the swing era's dominance, frequently assembling interracial groups to revive New Orleans-style improvisation. His collaborations often centered on soprano saxophonist Sidney Bechet and trumpeter Tommy Ladnier, whose interplay he championed through self-funded efforts starting in the mid-decade; these sessions preserved raw, collective ensemble playing against commercial trends.[7][8] A pivotal example occurred in 1938 under the guidance of French critic Hugues Panassié, resulting in the "Panassié Sessions" for RCA Victor. On November 21, Mezzrow led an orchestra recording tracks like "Comin' On with the Come On," featuring Bechet on soprano saxophone and emphasizing clarinet-saxophone dialogues.[22] The November 28 session spotlighted Ladnier's orchestra with Bechet, yielding cuts such as "Weary Blues," while the December 19 combined Mezzrow-Ladnier ensemble captured urgent, blues-inflected solos across eight sides, including "Blues for Tommy."[23] These Victor recordings, totaling over a dozen masters, highlighted Mezzrow's role in curating personnel like bassist Pops Foster and drummer Zutty Singleton for authentic polyphony.[24] Earlier, in 1936, Mezzrow formed the Disciples of Swing, an integrated quintet with Black guitarist Bernard Addison, multi-instrumentalist Elmer James on bass and tuba, white pianist John Nicollini, and drummer Zutty Singleton, which not only recorded but performed publicly as one of the first such ensembles to do so regularly in New York venues.[8] By late 1937, he directed another racially mixed band, incorporating players like Teddy Bunn on guitar to blend Chicago and Harlem influences in live and studio settings.[25] Mezzrow's organizing extended to informal jam sessions, including BBC-broadcast events from New York in late 1938 and early 1939, where he facilitated spontaneous collaborations among diverse musicians to project "authentic" jazz internationally.[26] These initiatives underscored his advocacy for unadulterated ensemble dynamics over arranged big-band formats.Formation of King Jazz Records
In 1945, Milton "Mezz" Mezzrow co-founded King Jazz Records in New York City, assuming the role of president.[2] The label operated primarily between 1945 and 1947, specializing in recordings that emphasized traditional New Orleans-style jazz and blues-oriented ensemble performances.[7] Mezzrow initiated the venture to counter the dominance of emerging bebop styles, aiming to document and promote what he regarded as the authentic, soulful roots of jazz, including collaborations with clarinetist Sidney Bechet and trumpeter Hot Lips Page.[27][28] The label's output included sessions featuring Mezzrow on clarinet alongside small groups, often recording in informal, jam-style formats that captured the improvisational essence of early jazz.[7] Notable releases encompassed tracks like "Those Mellow Blues" and "Gully Low Blues," highlighting Mezzrow's preference for straightforward, blues-infused swing over modernist complexities.[29] These efforts reflected Mezzrow's broader cultural immersion in Harlem's jazz scene and his advocacy for preserving pre-swing traditions amid postwar musical shifts.[27] King Jazz Records ceased operations after 1947, having produced a limited catalog that underscored Mezzrow's personal vision rather than commercial viability, with distributions handled through independent channels.[30] The label's brief existence aligned with Mezzrow's entrepreneurial foray into recording, distinct from his prior sideman roles, and contributed to archival documentation of traditional jazz practitioners during a transitional era.[31]Cultural Engagement
Immersion in Harlem and Identification with Black Culture
Mezzrow deepened his engagement with African American culture by relocating to Harlem in the 1930s after marrying Johnnie Mae, a black woman, with whom he started a family.[18] [32] The family resided in Harlem, New York City, where Mezzrow integrated into black communities, prioritizing associations with African American musicians and residents over mainstream white society.[33] [8] This immersion manifested in his self-identification as a "voluntary Negro," a term he used to express his allegiance to black identity and rejection of his white Jewish background.[32] [34] In 1942, he formally listed his race as "Negro" on his World War II draft registration card, underscoring his deliberate alignment with African American racial categorization amid prevailing segregation.[33] [32] Mezzrow's identification extended to viewing black culture—particularly its music, communal bonds, and resilience—as superior and transformative, influencing his lifestyle choices and social circles for decades.[15] [35] He maintained this stance through his time in Harlem, living among and advocating for black jazz practitioners, though contemporaries noted the rarity and intensity of a white musician crossing such racial lines in the pre-civil rights era.[8] [15]Adoption of Jive Language and Lifestyle
Mezzrow immersed himself in the vernacular of Harlem's jazz milieu during the 1920s, adopting jive talk—the specialized argot of black musicians and hepsters—as a core element of his personal expression. This slang, originating in African American communities and evolving through jazz improvisation, featured rhythmic phrasing, double entendres, and coded references to evade mainstream comprehension, such as "solid" for authentic or "vipers" for marijuana users. By the mid-1920s, after relocating to New York and frequenting Harlem clubs, Mezzrow claimed proficiency in this dialect, using it to signal solidarity with black cultural insiders over his white ethnic background.[36] In his 1946 memoir Really the Blues, co-authored with Bernard Wolfe, Mezzrow exemplifies this adoption through narrative style and dialogue, rendering entire sections in untranslated jive to convey the "real" rhythm of street and session life. One passage reproduces a four-page conversation in dense jive, accompanied by a gloss to decode terms like "bread" for money or "gate" for one's social circle, underscoring his view of the language as a subversive tool mocking "hypes and camouflage" of formal English. Critics note this stylistic choice not only preserved the oral cadence of jazz talk but also positioned Mezzrow as a cultural translator, bridging white audiences to black vernacular authenticity, though some contemporaries questioned its performative excess.[3][16][36] Beyond language, Mezzrow's lifestyle embodied hepster ethos, integrating jive into daily interactions, attire like wide-lapeled suits, and nocturnal routines aligned with Harlem's after-hours scene, where slang facilitated trust among musicians and "race men." He rejected "square" white norms, styling himself a "voluntary Negro" who prioritized cultural affinity over racial origin, a stance that earned him nicknames like "the link between the races" but also accusations of romanticized appropriation from black peers wary of white interlopers. This full embrace extended to recording sessions, where his jive fluency aided collaborations, reinforcing his role as an outlier in jazz's racial dynamics.[37]Narcotics Involvement
Marijuana Distribution to Jazz Musicians
Mezzrow first encountered marijuana, then known as "muggle" or "tea," in the early 1920s during a visit to a jazz club restroom outside Chicago, where he reported it sharpened his musical perception and led him to procure more for personal use and sharing among fellow musicians.[18] By the late 1920s, after relocating to New York City, he expanded into systematic distribution, sourcing high-grade Mexican "golden-leaf" cannabis and selling it openly on Harlem streets such as 131st Street and Seventh Avenue, where it remained legal until the federal Marihuana Tax Act of October 1, 1937.[38] [18] His operations targeted the jazz community, positioning him as a primary supplier to Harlem's "vipers"—musicians who favored cannabis for its reputed enhancement of improvisation and rhythm.[38] Mezzrow rolled distinctive "mezzroles," tightly packed joints of superior quality that elevated his reputation, with "mezz" entering slang as a term for premium marijuana.[38] [18] Among recipients was cornetist Louis Armstrong, for whom Mezzrow served as a regular dealer, including mailing shipments during Armstrong's 1932 European tour to sustain his habit amid travel restrictions.[18] This distribution network, built on personal ties within the interracial jazz milieu, made Mezzrow a central figure in Harlem's cannabis subculture, dubbed the "Muggles King" or "White Mayor of Harlem" by contemporaries who valued his reliable access over street alternatives.[18] Jazz lore credits such supply with normalizing marijuana's use for creative inspiration, though accounts derive largely from Mezzrow's self-reported experiences, corroborated by musicians' recollections of his street-level vending yielding rapid popularity.[38] Prior to 1937, his activities faced minimal interference, reflecting cannabis's pre-prohibition status as a niche import rather than a regulated narcotic.[38]Arrest, Imprisonment, and Legal Ramifications
In 1940, Mezzrow was arrested by federal narcotics agents at the New York World's Fair while attempting to enter a jazz club, found in possession of sixty marijuana cigarettes with intent to distribute them to musicians.[11][37] He was indicted under the newly enacted federal Marihuana Tax Act of 1937, which imposed strict penalties for unlicensed possession and sale of cannabis.[11] Following his arrest, Mezzrow refused to cooperate with authorities, declining a narcotics squad lieutenant's demands to inform on other Harlem marijuana distributors despite offers of leniency.[12] He was convicted on misdemeanor charges related to the possession and suspected distribution, receiving a sentence of one to three years' imprisonment at Rikers Island penitentiary.[11][12][37] During intake at Rikers, Mezzrow, who had long immersed himself in Black Harlem culture, insisted to prison officials that he was "a Negro" by heritage and upbringing, demanding placement in the segregated Black cell block rather than with white inmates; his request was granted, allowing him to associate primarily with Black prisoners.[6][38] This self-identification aligned with his prior adoption of Black identity markers, including listing "Schwartz" (Yiddish for Black) as his race on official documents.[8] The conviction and imprisonment marked a significant legal setback, curtailing Mezzrow's musical activities and distribution operations during his incarceration, though he was released after serving part of his indeterminate sentence, with no further major narcotics prosecutions documented against him thereafter.[11][12] The episode underscored the era's aggressive federal enforcement against marijuana, particularly targeting jazz circles, but Mezzrow's refusal to inform preserved his standing within those communities upon release.[12]Writings and Memoirs
Composition of Really the Blues
Really the Blues, the autobiography of Milton "Mezz" Mezzrow, was composed through a close collaboration with novelist Bernard Wolfe, who played a pivotal role in its creation. Wolfe, a Yale-educated writer known for associations with figures like Henry Miller, urged Mezzrow to record his experiences in the jazz world, narcotics trade, and cultural immersion, providing substantial assistance in structuring the narrative.[3] [39] The resulting work captures Mezzrow's voice through extensive use of jive terminology and rhythmic phrasing, blending personal anecdotes with vivid depictions of early 20th-century Harlem and Chicago scenes.[40] The writing process emphasized authenticity to Mezzrow's oral storytelling style, often described as a stylized oral history rather than a conventional literary autobiography. Mezzrow supplied the core content drawn from his life events, including reform school, musical sessions, and prison terms, while Wolfe refined the prose to maintain its improvisational, jazz-inflected cadence—every phrase and sentence infused with the "beat" of American vernacular music.[9] [41] This collaborative method ensured the memoir's distinctive tone, though it has prompted discussions on the balance between Mezzrow's raw input and Wolfe's editorial shaping.[42] Published by Random House in New York in 1946, the book emerged amid Mezzrow's ongoing involvement in jazz and post-incarceration recovery, marking a literary outlet for his reflections on race, music, and vice.[43] The 1946 edition quickly gained attention for its unfiltered portrayal of jazz subculture, influencing subsequent countercultural writings despite debates over factual accuracy in memoiristic elements.[44]Content Analysis and Autobiographical Elements
"Really the Blues," published in 1946 by Random House, chronicles Mezzrow's life from his Chicago youth through his immersion in jazz circles, narcotics trade, and imprisonment, framed as a first-person account infused with jive slang and vivid anecdotes of Harlem's cultural underbelly.[3] The narrative emphasizes Mezzrow's early reform school experiences where he first encountered black inmates and adopted their music and lingo, leading to his self-described "conversion" to identifying as culturally black, a theme recurrent in depictions of encounters with figures like Louis Armstrong and Sidney Bechet.[14] [45] Autobiographical elements dominate the text, drawing from Mezzrow's verifiable sessions organizing and collaborations in the 1930s, such as his work with Tommy Ladnier's band and marijuana distribution to musicians, though co-author Bernard Wolfe's structuring and stylistic polish introduce a collaborative filter that blends raw oral testimony with literary embellishment.[3] [44] Critics note the book's reliance on Mezzrow's personal recollections, including his Dannemora prison stint from 1940 to 1944 where he formed an integrated band, but question the precision of details amid hyperbolic portrayals of his influence and racial solidarity.[14] [46] Content analysis reveals a romanticized insider-outsider dynamic, with Mezzrow positioning himself as a white mediator in black jazz culture—claiming authenticity through lifestyle adoption—yet the text overlooks his limited technical prowess on clarinet, prioritizing cultural evangelism over musical critique.[47] [48] This leads to critiques of naive racial essentialism, where Mezzrow asserts being "blacker than many Negroes" based on affinity rather than biology, reflecting mid-20th-century cultural crossing but inviting scrutiny for exaggeration and unexamined privilege.[45] [14] Despite factual liberties, the memoir's value lies in its empirical snapshots of 1930s jazz ecology, corroborated by session logs and contemporaries' accounts of Mezzrow's networking role.[44]Later Life and Death
Relocation to Paris
In 1948, following his appearance at the Nice Jazz Festival, Mezzrow relocated to France, establishing Paris as his permanent residence alongside other expatriate American jazz musicians who sought a more receptive cultural environment for their work.[6][18] This move aligned with a broader postwar trend among jazz artists fleeing domestic racial barriers and professional limitations in the United States, where Mezzrow had faced repeated legal troubles related to narcotics and intermittent career stagnation.[49] Upon settling in Paris, Mezzrow resumed active involvement in the local jazz scene, forming collaborations with French traditionalists including clarinetist Claude Luter and engaging in recordings with Sidney Bechet during the latter's European residencies.[18] His presence contributed to the city's burgeoning Dixieland revival, though his playing style—characterized by enthusiastic but technically uneven improvisation—drew mixed responses from European critics accustomed to more polished expatriate performers.[13] Mezzrow's relocation also allowed him to distance himself from American authorities, as his prior convictions for marijuana distribution had curtailed opportunities stateside.[6] The decision reflected Mezzrow's longstanding affinity for uncompromised jazz expression, unburdened by the commercial pressures and social hostilities he encountered in New York and Chicago, enabling sporadic performances and a quieter personal life amid Paris's tolerant bohemian circles.[50]Final Years and Passing
In the years following his relocation to Paris in the early 1950s, Mezzrow maintained a low-profile existence centered on the city's expatriate jazz community, occasionally participating in informal sessions influenced by his longstanding associations with figures like Sidney Bechet, who had preceded him there.[51] [11] His activities diminished compared to his earlier career, reflecting a shift toward personal reflection amid health challenges and the evolving jazz landscape, though he retained connections to the scene that had defined his identity.[13] [18] Mezzrow died on August 5, 1972, at the American Hospital in Paris, at the age of 72.[52] He was interred in the Père-Lachaise Cemetery.[53]Legacy and Reception
Musical Contributions and Criticisms
Mezzrow's musical contributions centered on his advocacy for and participation in the Chicago and New Orleans styles of jazz during the 1920s and 1930s, where he immersed himself in the local scene after adopting the clarinet and tenor saxophone. Influenced by figures such as Freddie Keppard, King Oliver, and Louis Armstrong, he emulated their approaches, emphasizing blues-inflected phrasing and rhythmic drive in his playing, which demonstrated agility and thoughtful lines on recordings like those with the Mezzrow-Bechet Quintet in 1937, including "Gone Away Blues" and "De Luxe Stomp."[17][54][55] A key aspect of his role involved organizing and financing interracial recording sessions that bridged racial divides in an era of segregation, such as collaborations with Sidney Bechet and Tommy Ladnier in the 1930s, and establishing the King Jazz label in the 1940s to document traditionalists like Bechet.[8][56] These efforts arguably facilitated one of the earliest integrated public jazz ensembles, promoting New Orleans-derived swing to wider audiences while challenging Jim Crow norms in the music industry.[8][18] Critics, however, have consistently noted Mezzrow's technical limitations as a performer, describing him as an enthusiastic but limited clarinetist whose best work occurred on straightforward, pre-bebop material, with recordings revealing a tone and execution that lacked the precision of contemporaries like Benny Goodman or Sidney Bechet.[7] Jazz commentator Richard Cook labeled him "usually a dreadful musician," attributing this to Mezzrow's dogmatic insistence on "authentic" jazz rooted in black traditions, which led to inflexible opinions that alienated peers in the Chicago scene and resistance to evolving styles like bebop.[51][20][16] His self-identification with black musical culture, while sincere, drew scrutiny for prioritizing cultural immersion over instrumental mastery, positioning him more as a promoter and cultural conduit than a virtuoso innovator.[7][18]Cultural Impact and Controversies
Mezzrow's 1946 memoir Really the Blues, co-authored with Bernard Wolfe, exerted significant influence on countercultural literature and jazz historiography, blending hipster slang with autobiographical accounts of Harlem's music scene and marijuana use, which anticipated stylistic elements in Beat Generation works like Jack Kerouac's prose.[37][57] The book's vivid depiction of jive talk and reefer culture helped propagate slang terms into broader American vernacular, with "mezz" entering lexicon as shorthand for premium marijuana due to his role in distributing Mexican-sourced cannabis to jazz figures like Louis Armstrong and Cab Calloway in the 1930s.[18][11] His advocacy for marijuana normalization, framed as a creative enhancer in jazz improvisation, contributed to shifting perceptions among musicians and intellectuals, positioning him as an early proponent of cannabis decriminalization narratives, though empirical data on its effects remained anecdotal and contested at the time.[38] Mezzrow's recordings and organizing of integrated sessions, such as the 1936 "Really the Blues" track with Sidney Bechet, underscored his push for racial collaboration in music, influencing hipster archetypes that valorized black cultural authenticity over mainstream norms.[8] Controversies surrounding Mezzrow centered on his racial self-identification, as detailed in Really the Blues, where he described psychologically "crossing the line" into black identity during a 1930s prison stint, requesting assignment to the African American cellblock and later marrying a black woman, Dorothée Sauvage, in 1953.[52][53] This stance, rooted in his rejection of Jewish heritage for immersion in Harlem's social world, drew criticism for blurring ethnic boundaries in an era of strict segregation, with some contemporaries viewing it as performative or delusional, exemplified by his claim of physically "turning black" under cultural influence.[38] His marijuana trafficking, which led to a 1940 federal conviction and three-year sentence, amplified debates over drug criminalization's racial disparities, as he supplied primarily to black musicians amid heightened enforcement under the 1937 Marihuana Tax Act.[18][58]Modern Reassessments and Reissues
In 2016, New York Review Books Classics reissued Really the Blues, Mezzrow's 1946 memoir co-authored with Bernard Wolfe, featuring expanded appendices, a glossary of jazz slang, and an introduction highlighting its vivid depiction of Prohibition-era underworlds and Harlem jazz scenes.[3] The reissue prompted renewed critical attention, with reviewers praising the book's raw, proto-Beat style as a "stylized oral history" that captures the improvisational ethos of jazz life, though some noted its romanticized self-portrayal of Mezzrow as a cultural intermediary.[39] [14] Mezzrow's musical recordings have seen sporadic digital remastering and compilations in the 21st century, reflecting niche interest among traditional jazz enthusiasts rather than mainstream revival. For instance, the 1947 album Really the Blues was remastered and re-released digitally in 2014, compiling sessions with Sidney Bechet and emphasizing Mezzrow's role as a sideman and producer in New Orleans-style revival efforts.[59] Earlier reissues, such as the 1996 compilation 1936-1939 on EPM Musique, gathered Commodore and Bluebird tracks, underscoring his collaborations with figures like Teddy Wilson and Billie Holiday but critiquing his limited technical proficiency on clarinet.[60] Contemporary assessments often portray Mezzrow as a peripheral figure in jazz history—an enthusiastic traditionalist fixated on pre-bebop swing and New Orleans polyphony, whose greater impact lay in facilitation, record production, and marijuana distribution within Harlem circles rather than instrumental innovation.[37] [7] Jazz historians note varying evaluations of his legacy, with some crediting his Paris-based efforts in the 1950s to promote "authentic" blues among expatriates, while others dismiss his playing as technically weak despite sincere swing-era advocacy.[61] These views align with archival reissues like the 2023 digital availability of West End Blues sessions, which prioritize historical documentation over artistic reevaluation.[62]Discography
Selected Studio Recordings
Mezzrow's studio recordings as a leader emphasized swing and Dixieland styles, often featuring interracial ensembles and collaborations with prominent Black musicians, reflecting his advocacy for racial integration in jazz.[7]| Year | Session/Title | Label | Key Details |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1933 | Mezz Mezzrow and His Orchestra (e.g., "Dissonance," "Swingin' with Mezz") | American Record Corporation subsidiaries (e.g., Melotone) | Early swing sessions arranged by Benny Carter, marking Mezzrow's debut as bandleader on tenor saxophone and clarinet.[7] [63] |
| 1936 | "Really the Blues" / "Sendin' the Vipers" | Vocalion | Iconic interracial session with Frankie Newton on trumpet and Teddy Wilson on piano; the title track became a commercial success and inspired Mezzrow's autobiography.[7] |
| 1938 | Panassié Sessions (e.g., "Revolutionary Blues," "When You and I Were Young, Maggie") | Bluebird (Victor) | Organized with French critic Hugues Panassié, featuring Tommy Ladnier on trumpet and Sidney Bechet on soprano saxophone; highlighted traditional jazz revival elements.[7] [64] |
| 1945–1947 | King Jazz Records sessions (e.g., "In a Mezz," "Those Mellow Blues," "Gully Low Blues") | King Jazz (Mezzrow's own label) | Blues-focused jams primarily with Sidney Bechet, Sammy Price on piano, and rhythm sections; over 100 sides produced, prioritizing unpolished ensemble playing over technical virtuosity.[7] [27] |