JAZZ ’86 : RENAISSANCE TIME : A Year of Breaking Down the Dikes : GOLDEN FEATHERS

We will remember 1986 as the year when Billie Holiday became a star on Hollywood Boulevard.

When Duke Ellington became a 22-cent stamp.

When Miles Davis became 60, and the Woody Herman Herd turned 50.

When Weather Report became Weather Update.

When New Age became a separate category, no longer confused with jazz.

When compact discs became the new medium for listening to music.

If for no other reason than the unprecedented efflux of records that broke down the dikes--vocal and instrumental, LP and CD, newly minted or elaborately reprinted--1986 has been an unprecedentedly successful year for jazz.

Out of one side of their mouths, the businessmen assured us that jazz wasn’t commercial; out of a hidden corner in their pocketbooks, they came up with financing for hundreds of improbable projects.

It has gotten to the point where records can be assessed by the pound. “The Complete Keynote Collection,” a magnificent small-combo compendium comprising 334 swing performances, of which 115 are rightly described as “newly discovered gems,” weighs in at eight pounds. So does “Thelonious Monk: The Complete Riverside Performances,” a 22-LP set running to 153 items, including many unissued takes.

At a mere six pounds, “Benny Goodman: The RCA Victor Years” spans 1935-39 and is no less valuable with its 16-record storehouse of trio, quartet, sextet and orchestral sides, on RCA’s newly revived Bluebird label. Also on Bluebird, “Duke Ellington: The Blanton-Webster Band” recalls, on four LPs, what were for many admirers the golden Ellington years (1940-1942). (RCA has also launched a label, Novus, for new LPs by Adam Makovich, James Moody et al.)

More practical for the non-millionaire jazz student is a superb series just issued on Atlantic. These one- and two-LP anthologies have such titles as “The Avant Garde,” “Fusion,” “Kansas City,” “New Orleans,” “Bebop,” “West Coast” and “Soul.” Many of these invaluable items were produced by two brothers, Nesuhi and Ahmet Ertegun, then Young Turks of the jazz movement (literally: their father had been the Turkish ambassador to the United States). The Atlantic items are available in a 15-LP, 6-pound box; however, I suggest selectivity, since these heavyweight entries are somewhat daunting in the dollar department.

The list is virtually endless. Fantasy and its related labels (Milestone, Prestige, Contemporary) provide a constant source of old and new treasures. Still going strong are Blue Note and the newly revitalized MCA/Impulse, where a big commercial push has been in motion for the pianist Henry Butler, guitarist Henry Johnson and others.

Columbia, of course, has been in there right along, breaking in such young talents as Donald Harrison and Terence Blanchard as well as the Marsalis family.

Independent labels such as Concord, Mosaic, Landmark, Black Hawk, Muse, Seabreeze and Discovery are ongoing sources where the reliance on quality never seems to be disturbed by the quest for mass sales.

Compact discs are proliferating to the point where some companies plan to release albums on CD only. The death rattle of the LP is not yet audible, but jazz collectors would be well-advised to concentrate on CDs whenever possible, both for quality of sound and for quantity (a recent Art Blakey CD on Delos contained 70 minutes of superlative sounds by the veteran drummer’s current group). Carmen McRae’s newest, “Any Old Time” on Denon, runs to just an hour, and the vibrant Phil Woods Quintet in “Gratitude,” also on Denon, takes 71 minutes to play a program of eight pieces.

There’s already such a phenomenon as a double-CD. Discovery, which has gone into the compact-disc field full tilt with a variety of West Coast eminences, offers the Mike Wofford Trio and Quartet in a two-CD package that includes the equivalent of three LPs.

In short, a golden feather is hereby awarded collectively to those producers in the record industry who, against all odds, have fought the good fight to produce this cornucopia.

Forward now to the individual awards, the result of considerable cogitation and many reluctant eliminations.

Musician of the Year: Branford Marsalis. Behind him are the tours with brother Wynton’s group, the Sting experience (of which he says, “I enjoyed it, but I learned absolutely nothing”), and a record with Tina Turner. Ahead are more records and bookings with the dazzling quartet, of which his saxophone is the centerpiece. Steeped in the tradition, yet never mired in the past, Branford Marsalis is an artist of extraordinary breadth and depth.

Band of the Year: Rob McConnell’s Boss Brass. This 22-piece Toronto-based ensemble has yet to reach the plateau of international acceptance it deserves. Perhaps the jazz communities in Europe and Japan are skeptical about the value of a Canadian orchestra, yet McConnell’s records (and his occasional visits to California) have left no doubt that his own arrangements and his lineup of soloists, coupled with the band’s impeccable performance level, deserve greater exposure.

Movie of the Year: “ ‘Round Midnight.” True, there has been negative reaction among some musicians who fear that the image of jazzmen as victims of chemical dependency may be aggravated by this story. I think, though, that it is safe to assume most viewers will be intelligent enough to know that the role played so brilliantly by Dexter Gordon is not intended as a generalization. What matters is that for the first time ever, musicians were hired to play and act as musicians; with the help of the director Bertrand Tavernier they did so with total conviction. If, as seems possible, Gordon wins an Oscar nomination, jazz will ultimately benefit, and other jazz-related films, dealing authentically with less downbeat aspects of the scene, may soon ensue.

Trend of the Year: The re-emergence of the clarinet. This was due mainly to an astonishing album by Eddie Daniels, “Breakthrough” (GRP), and to Richard Stoltzman’s appearances with Chick Corea, Joe Williams, Woody Herman et al., as well as the “Begin Sweet World” album (RCA) in which he dared to segue from “Abide With Me” to Thelonious Monk’s “Blue Monk.” John Carter, Alvin Batiste and, of course, Buddy De Franco continued to show their loyalty to an instrument that had been almost written off as a force in jazz.

Guest Spot of the Year: The Soviet Union’s Ganelin Trio played in 15 U.S. cities and appeared on American television. That country’s pioneer avant-garde group, led by the pianist Vyacheslav Ganelin, represented the first peace-shot fired in a cultural exchange that may find the Leningrad Dixieland Band visiting us next summer, and a group including Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter visiting the U.S.S.R.

Singer of the Year: A difficult choice. Dianne Schuur, by far the most heavily publicized and promoted, is a moving and confident performer, yet she still occasionally lapses into Dinah Washingtonisms that just don’t work. Carmen Lundy, a no less promising newcomer, has an intriguing debut LP on Black Hawk, but tends to set the nerves on edge with her “Love for Sale” high notes. This leaves Susannah McCorkle, about whom no such reservations can be made. Her Pausa LP, “How Do You Keep the Music Playing?,” is now on a CD, offering a timely reminder of a voice marked by intelligence, sensitivity and a personal sound. So, for McCorkle, the gilded plume. (But do check out Schuur’s latest GRP album, “Timeless,” now on a CD and by all odds her best to date.)

On the shady side of the street, a wilted feather to:

Dubious Achievement of the Year: The launching, 13 years after his death, of a Gene Krupa band, involving none of his several famous alumni. This is not just a ghost band. It’s a skeleton.

Blue Notes of the Year: The toll was heavy, depriving us of many long valued citizens such as Benny Goodman, Teddy Wilson, Sonny Terry, Thad Jones, Pepper Adams, Clyde Bernhardt and Eddie (Lockjaw) Davis.

Prognosis: It can safely be forecast that 1987 will find the jazz consumer overwhelmed by a proliferation of compact discs, videocassettes and live music, most notably in the form of festivals and concerts by the hundred. Sure, a number of night clubs folded and, as always, some observers predicted the decline and fall of jazz, but isn’t that a cry we have been hearing all our lives?