The past five years have seen the rise of at least ten big swing bands. In those bands, from time to time, have been featured some of the finest musicians in the game. Record companies have been doing a land-office business, not only with the name bands, but also with small combination that give the soloists more opportunity to "get off." Private companies have collected many groups of men carefully selected for their ability to play together, and their music has been put on records. On other words, recorded jazz has become a small industry since 1936.

And yet, there are collectors and "critics" today, who still insist that "it's gotta be old to be good." They speak in terms of "pure jazz" as opposed to "commercial swing," and have succeeded in making some people believe that the period from 1920 to 1935 had some intangible quality that gave jazz musicians an inspiration they just don't get these days. Some of them, in the throbs of an overdose of social-consciousness, insist that a musician played better jazz when he wasn't making any money. Today, the average musicians in the average name band gets at least $100 a week. Doesn't seem weak reasoning to say that a man who eats three square meals a day, can't play anything but "commercial"?

As far as I can see, there are only two distinctions between old jazz and new. In the first place, your lod jazz band didn't have the arrangers (and consequently, the orchestral polish) that present-day bands have. Secondly, rhythm sections of the twenties were pitiful. They were jerky, heavy, and most of the time constituted a hindrance to the soloists and even the ensemble. Since the use of the hi-hat cymbals, however, jazz orchestras have attained a smooth quality to their rhythm sections, that really makes the band ride, rather than hold if back.

Otherwise I don't see any great difference. As far as the individual soloists are concerned. Who am I to say whether Bud Freeman played worse trips in 1929 than he does today. I like old jazz as much as the next guy. In fact, I might go so far as to say that some of my best friends are jazz records. I happen to prefer the more recent stuff, but I've burned gallons of midnight oil listening to Louie and Bessie Smith. All I'm asking from a lot of critics is that they try to be a little more fair in their judgments. They would do well to listen to Woody Herman and Charlie Barnet, before they dismiss them, by saying with amused tolerance: "It's pretty good, but it's commercial." Mike Levin, who wrote the best swing column Harvard ever saw, harped on this for two years, for all the good it did him.

NEWS AND NEW RELEASES. The one and only Grover Sales (who found out you can get an education at Harvard without registering) tells the story of the infamous Boston Hot Club in the October issue of the Hot Record Society Rag. Jam sessions with Count Basie, raids by the Beantown police, George Frazier's night in jail are all featured in Grover's account of the club's decline and fall. . . . Eight-neat fans may add to their list Teddy Powell's DECCA recording of Teddy's Boogie-Woogie. It's fast jump, with a gang of good choruses. . . . Will Bradley has finally turned out his firs fizzle, Scrub Me Mama, an attempt to recapture the success of Beat Me Daddy. However, he makes up for it with Scramble Two, a clean job on a fine arrangement, featuring a wacky vocal break by Ray McKinley and family (COLUMBIA). . . . DECCA has issued an album of Count Basie piano, accompanied by Freddie Green, Joe Jones, and Walter Page. Just the thing for those who want to dig a rhythm section that doesn't have to sweat in order to swing. . . . Best solo of the week comes from Eugene Cedric's tenor sax, on My Mommie Sent Me To The Store, a BLUEBIRD recording by Fats Waller. . . . Charlie Barnet's arrangement of Night and Day (BLUEBIRD), gives new life to the old tune. The reverse, Wild Mab of the Fish Pond, features some very super-Ellington orchestration. . . . Latest on the New Goodman band: Earl Hines on piano. Keep you fingers crossed