Jazz and Justice. Gerald Horne
Читать онлайн книгу.
economic gain. Chicago was an example of this trend. What was called “policy” or “playing the numbers” was an ostensibly illegal lottery of sorts that was termed “the biggest black-owned business in the world with combined annual sales, sometimes reaching the $100 million mark and employing tens of thousands.” Negroes profiting from this enterprise at times dabbled in the arts, bringing opportunities for musicians. These entrepreneurs underwrote a thriving urban culture of theaters, dance halls, and the like. Those profiting included Jesse Binga, Eudora Johnson Binga, Fenton Johnson, and John “Mushmouth” Johnson. But as so often happened, the authorities viewed Negro wealth, particularly if produced by questionable means, with a more jaundiced eye than that generated by others similarly situated, particularly since their Euro-American competitors were often connected politically and able to wield such power on behalf of their cronies. Mr. Binga, banker, was arrested, convicted, and imprisoned and eventually became a janitor. Still, it was undeniable that a dazzling excitement emerged from this combination of Negro gambling syndicates, Negro entertainment, and the related desire to forge Black Politics in order to elude the crushing of the two.30
Near the center of these trends was the famed pugilist Jack Johnson, a bass fiddler of note in his own right, who opened a popular club in Chicago as early as 1912.31 Despite the problems faced by Negro musicians in places like Chicago, it was undeniable that compared to Dixie, including New Orleans,32 migration northward had a liberating impact. This liberation was enjoyed noticeably by the pimps, card sharks, pool hustlers, and drug dealers who came to populate “Bronzeville” and the clubs there too.33 Musician Milt Hinton found it unsurprising that Chicago emerged as a polestar of the new music, particularly compared to New York City, since the Illinois town had “three times as many blacks” as the eastern city, meaning “three times as many theaters and nightclubs as New York.”34
Chicago was an unpropitious site for the ascension of this music. Prior to the influx of Negroes during the First World War era, Chicago already was known as a place where mobsters had deep influence over politics and judges. Labor racketeering was detected there as early as the 1890s, and criminally inclined comrades virtually controlled nearby Cicero, Stone Park, Calumet, and Chicago Heights.35
It took a while for Black political power to bloom in Chicago, and in the interregnum a gang war erupted in the 1920s with Al Capone emerging triumphant. The firebombing of clubs was not uncommon, with musicians caught in the crossfire. Similar warfare was detonated in Harlem with a Negro-owned club falling victim, contributing to the rise in this Manhattan neighborhood of Capone’s colleagues and imitators. This led to violent attacks on musicians, giving rise to a desire for protection which took the form of self-help, that is, carrying of weapons and banding together in unions, or allying with one gangster faction to foil another. This latter factor influenced certain musicians to tout the wares of their protectors, which could mean more references to controlled substances in their music and lyrics.36 The Italian mobster was viewed as one of the most important impresarios of the new music, hiring musicians to entertain at his enterprises.37 Indeed, Capone has been called the “patron saint” of the new music; it was in Chicago that the saxophone was popularized and rapidly became the paradigmatic instrument of jazz.38 The blaring of these horns could hardly drown out the cacophony of gunshots, for in 1926–27 most notably, there was an unbelievable skein of violence and carnage.39
Louis Armstrong arrived in Chicago during this tense moment, and mobsters helped him to get his first job in New York City after he arrived there from the Midwest in 1924.40 Armstrong was subjected to extortion by plug-uglies early on. His life was threatened unless he forked over a sizeable portion of the money he received from performing. Still, it was whispered that these threats were propelled by musical competitors—defined as “white”—who resented his popularity.41
The ties Armstrong forged in Chicago shaped his career trajectory. Joe Glaser, who helped to shape his career as a manager and agent, was seen as a front for Capone via running one of the mobster’s brothels; his venality was exposed when he was indicted for rape. In a sense, Armstrong chose one set of thugs to protect him against another; such was the sorry plight of musicians then. Glaser’s mob connections meant that Armstrong was at times slated to appear in mob-tied joints, such as Ciro’s in Philadelphia. These shark-infested waters also contributed to Armstrong accusing his then spouse—the protean pianist, composer and arranger Lil Hardin, who helped to shape his repertoire and early popularity—of “running around with one of the Chicago pimps while I was at work.” Thus, a rift developed between the trumpeter and the woman who masterminded his early career.42
Andy Kirk, the bandleader, tubist, and saxophonist born in 1898, said that Glaser “acted like a crook.” The fact that he almost did hard time in prison based on credible accusations of raping teenage girls added credence to this perception. “Nobody likes a little nigger pussy better than Joe Glaser” was his profane response. By 1928, he had received a ten-year sentence for attacking a fourteen-year-old girl. Still, a grateful Satchmo argued that Glaser “saved me from the gangsters.” Besides music and boxing, the well-connected Glaser introduced the future movie mogul Jules Stein to mob mouthpiece Sidney Korshak: “Everyone knew that Stein worked for Al Capone in Chicago,” remarked actor Robert Mitchum, indicating the reach of organized racketeering.43 Like Kirk, bassist Milt Hinton was no fan of Glaser either. He was “the guy we all disliked because he was a terror … I knew him, I knew his … mother” he said of a man he dismissed as a mere “pimp.”44
Glaser was born in 1897 and raised in Chicago and admits to running a “booking agency” at 127 North Dearborn by the early 1920s as musicians began descending upon the town.45 He also owned and operated the Sunset Café, which later became the Grand Terrace, both hotspots for the new music. He claims that he boosted Armstrong’s career when he hired him for “Carroll Dickenson’s band,” where he played “1st trumpet.”46 Glaser, the son of a physician, intended on following in his father’s footsteps before he discovered an aversion to the sight of blood. He then left medical school. Often accused of running a “plantation,” he also managed boxers, including such titans as Sugar Ray Robinson, Sonny Liston, and the man then known as Cassius Clay; he also dabbled in dog breeding and baseball. The wealth accrued allowed him to tool around town in a Rolls-Royce.47 Prohibition’s end, in other words, did not end opportunities for corrupt profiteering; it simply allowed exploiters to move their ill-gotten gains into other businesses or deepen their penetration of the music business.48 The blustering Glaser, backed up by mobsters, had a grating voice and a low boiling point that terrified those forced to endure his unbridled wrath.49 Profane curses and brutal imprecations were directed at those who displeased him, including clients responsible for his wealth, not to mention those seeking to hire his clients.50 The tough voice and evil temperament terrified anyone confronted for the first time by his wrath.
The Chicago Defender, a lodestar of the Negro press, reported in 1928 that Glaser was a “firm member of the Al Capone organization”51 and was said to have administered an “opium pad.” The mob connected lawyer Sidney Korshak was Glaser’s attorney, helping to make sure he did not wind up behind bars. The comedian and actor Bob Hope, who was to become fabulously wealthy, was also a Glaser client. Still, Armstrong was a prized client, as suggested by Glaser’s impecuniousness when he first met the trumpeter. Soon he was raking in tens of thousands of dollars per week, with Armstrong a major reason why. In return, Glaser gifted a Star of David with rubies on a gold chain that adorned Armstrong’s neck for the rest of his life. The cynicism of this arrangement was exposed when Glaser purportedly said of those like Armstrong, “these shines are all alike. They’re so lazy.” But the artist had few options. In the early 1930s he was confronted by cutthroats who demanded money and offered to “protect” him for a fee, inducing Armstrong to flee to Europe,52 where he spent a year nursing a lip worn by overwork.53
This was a wise exit on his part since these mobsters had demanded $6,000 and threatened to murder him if he did not comply.54 Safely abroad, Armstrong then unburdened himself, telling a journalist about the anxiety he felt when these miscreants invaded his dressing room in Chicago. “I stood up to them,” he said from