
Grover Sales, in a concise (and admirable) introduction to jazz published in 1984, is merely repeating the popular wisdom when he writes: 'For all their technical expertise, most of the West Coast group recordings for Contemporary and Pacific jazz today strike us as bloodless museum pieces, a neatly packaged soundtrack for the cold war. Unfortunately, this latter attitude has prevailed for so long it has somehow taken on the weight of dogma. By the early sixties, the general consensus seemed to hold that any jazz recorded in Los Angeles in the fifties was suspect. As the decade wore on, the term West Coast jazz came increasingly to be used as a pejorative, and musicians and record companies alike hastened to disassociate themselves from the label. Jazz writers began to point out (quite correctly) that many of the experiments had little to do with jazz, and that much of the music from the Coast lacked the fire and intensity associated with the best jazz performances.

Naturally enough, the surfeit of attention and critical praise lavished on this music drew an eventual reaction.

Somebody coined the term 'West Coast jazz' to describe the music being produced in California, and the tag stuck. The jazz press was - at first - also highly enthusiastic about the new sounds from the Coast. In this hothouse atmosphere experimentation was rife, and attempts to adapt the instruments and techniques of the concert hall to jazz were tried, sometimes with a fair amount of success. Independent record companies - Pacific jazz and Contemporary in the vanguard sprang up like fast-food franchises and issued a seemingly endless torrent of albums by these and other Los Angeles-based musicians. Several miles away in the town of Hermosa Beach, bassist Howard Rumsey and a crew of ex- Ken tonites drew equally enthusiastic crowds to an old crew of ex waterfront bar, the Lighthouse Cafe.

Baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan had gained fame (and a spread in Time magazine) by forming a piano-less quartet his new group was drawing standing-room-only crowds nightly to an intimate club called The Haig.

In the early 1950s the attention of the jazz world was focused on Los Angeles.
