Word: bandstand
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...bakery oven." This advice by Disk Jockey Dick Clark appears in a new book, Your Happiest Years (Rosho Corp.; $2.95), aiming sound moral advice at teenagers. Yet in a mere three years, ever since he took over the local Philadelphia show that grew into ABC's American Bandstand, Dick Clark has found plenty of bread in the oven. Among the loaves: three other ABC shows, an advice-to-teeners column in This Week magazine, interests in record-and music-publishing companies and other items, all adding up to an estimated annual income of $500,000. In the general uproar...
...edge of San Francisco's Tenderloin and just a wiggle away from the city's sleaziest strip joints, slumps a scabrous nightclub called the Black Hawk. Its dim doorway belches noise and stale cigarette smoke. Against one wall lies a long, dank bar minus bar stools; a bandstand, just big enough for an underfed quintet, is crammed on the other side; stained, plastic-topped tables and rachitic chairs crowd the floor. The capacity, when everyone is inhaling, comes close to 200, and strangely, the crowd is always close to capacity. This week the Black Hawk is edging into...
Diners near the bandstand could hear the squeal of the buzz mute being fitted into the bell of the horn. The pudgy little man with the wispy mustache lifted the tarnished trumpet, looked right to the piano player, back to the drummer. Then Trumpeter Jonah Jones patted out two measures with a soft left foot and took the first three pickup notes of I Could Have Danced All Night...
...bandstand of the narrow, crepe paper-festooned dance hall behind the bar ("Ladies Will Not Be Let in at the Door Wearing Shorts or Slacks") sit a pianist, trumpeter, guitarist, bass fiddler. As the evening wears on and the smoke from the wall tables eddies through the room, the band is likely to swing with a pile-driver beat into some old favorites-Big Mamou or Shake It and Break It. The style, as raw and jolting as a shot of bootleg rye, offers the last authentic taste of the music that once helped make New Orleans the world...
...similar performance almost 20 years ago. There was no need. Haunting as a train whistle at midnight, evocative as a gutbucket trumpet, as clean as a bank of violins, the music made by Harmonicist Larry Adler, 45, transformed the tawdry basement nightclub. For a little while last week, the bandstand at San Francisco's "hungry i" nightclub seemed as big as a concert stage...