The New Yorker mention: Rifftide

In Memoriam: Sam Rivers.

He played within a tradition that’s usually called free jazz, and it’s worth noting that it is—and already was—a tradition. Though an extraordinarily sophisticated and audacious musician, Rivers’s playing conveyed a wealth of wisdom and experience—the kind that came from life as such and the kind that came distinctively from the musical life. I’ll quote Papa Jo Jones, whose drumming lent the Count Basie band its even, gliding swing, from the book “Rifftide,” his autobiography (about which, more later):

You have to realize that a year in this business, one year, is equivalent to two and a half years for a nine-to-fiver. That’s how old we are.

Published in: The New Yorker
By: Richard Brody

Read the original story