“It Was True.” A Sequel

“It Was True.” A Sequel

Following the previous blog post (1998.8.28), I received a sincere response from Mr. Masashi Narita. I will first explain once more the story of Keepnews (from the liner notes of “The Complete Riverside Recordings / Victor VICJ-40060-40071” 12-CD set) and then introduce Mr. Narita’s response.

Keepnews’ Testimony

“Less than two weeks after signing the dawn contract, Wes flew to New York for his first Riverside recording, bringing along fellow Indianapolis musicians Mel Rhyne and Paul Parker. Despite Wes’ deep-seated fear of flying (which I didn’t know at the time), he didn’t raise any objections. He probably didn’t want to cause any problems with his new label or was simply eager to get his career on track. In fact, earlier (around the fall of 1982 before this album was released), I had a chance to verify this with Mel Rhyne. I also asked him about the claim mentioned in this album’s liner notes, specifically Kenny Burrell’s statement that I called him to borrow a guitar and amp for Wes for this session. Mel confirmed the part about the flight from Indianapolis, and he recalled that we advised against using the worn-out amp. However, he was uncertain about the guitar. Since my own memory was unclear, I had no reason to doubt Kenny’s account.”

Mr. Masashi Narita’s Response

 

The basis for my description, which contradicts the established theory (that Wes used a plane from Indianapolis to New York in ’59), stems from an interview with Kenny Burrell on November 8, 1989, while he was performing at Blue Note Tokyo (interviewed in the venue’s office). Kenny Burrell clearly stated that he had prepared and lent a Gibson L-7 and a Fender Deluxe Reverb for Wes’s first leader session and mentioned, “Although the plan was to use a plane, he (Wes) ended up driving. He probably didn’t fly until his first European tour.” This is where it all started.

However, although I clearly remember the situation at the time, I didn’t have the leisure of time during the interview, and as it was almost our first meeting (second encounter), I couldn’t delve into confirmation work with probing questions like “That’s different from the existing records” or “Are you sure about your memory?” I apologize if this sounds like I’m avoiding responsibility, but I’ve experienced several interviews where musicians corrected themselves after initial statements like “I didn’t play in that session” followed by “Sorry, I was mistaken” when confronted with existing discography records.

However, in this instance, Kenny Burrell’s clear statement about the Gibson L-7 and Fender Deluxe Reverb seemed to embed the “driving story” as a scoop or new theory into my memory. Moreover, presenting this information, which I must now consider as a “new misconception,” to Wes’s widow and other associates during my Indianapolis research this summer, led to overwhelming supportive statements like “He became afraid of flying after witnessing a crash” from Wes’s widow, and “He often went out secretly by car” and “Wes drove everywhere” from his close friend Alonzo “Pookie” Johnson, overshadowing the “established theory” without thorough comparison and examination of existing information.

Upon reflection, I understand the contradictions that arise from my shortcomings, such as whether a regular car could easily travel back and forth between Indianapolis and New York in those days, how Wes, who wasn’t particularly wealthy, managed to obtain a car, and why he didn’t bring his guitar and amp if he used a car. The first point of criticism against me should be “relying on the memory of a single musician.” Of course, Kenny Burrell bears no responsibility in this regard. Secondly, I cannot deny the responsibility for my strong statements without fully explaining the core of the existing data.

As you mentioned, I should have developed my argument by clearly indicating the parts that might be “misunderstandings” if there is a “truth.” However, the emotional impact of directly encountering Wes’s widow’s recollections at his grave and the heartfelt memories from Alonzo “Pookie” Johnson, whom Wes trusted immensely, inflated the scant clues, leading to an unintentional transformation of my interpretation into “official history.” While acknowledging the reporting flaws, I must insist that I was not arrogant in doing so.

In any case, my commitment to diligently gathering information and constructing the “official history” of Wes Montgomery, a giant who not only contributed to the evolution, improvement, and maturation of jazz guitar but also supported 20th-century jazz history, remains unchanged.

I am grateful to Mr. Narita for his persuasive response. Ultimately, Keepnews seemed unsure of his memory and confirmed it with Mel Rhyne. Mr. Narita, based on interviews with Burrell and Serene, published the article in SJ magazine. As Mr. Narita’s words, “relying on the memory of a single musician,” I, too, write articles based on someone’s account of past events. Considering this, and lacking decisive physical evidence, it’s challenging to make a definitive judgment. Human memory tends to fade over time. However, reflecting on such trivial matters and reminiscing about Wes also testifies to his greatness.