All Hail the Jazz Super-Stud-by Steve Provizer

Lana and Artie

Pity the poor jazz musician. For about 75 years we were branded with a kind of anti-hero cultural status. To live up to that, we coughed up scores of booze-soaked and heroin-riddled deaths. Some-Artie Shaw, Harry James-were forced to march-step through scores of glamorous divorces. After that, the pressure eased off a bit. When people paid any attention at all, they saw us as only minor cultural anomalies, with a soupcon of romanticism; just enough to use in cigarette ads. Today, there's something new to deal with. A recent study says we're Kings of the Sexual Jungle. Actually, the study says King Stud would be an agnostic, butt-smoking, black, jewish, atheist jazz musician. But is that what people are seeing? No. They only see the jazz musician part. Quelle burden. Now, all those darlint servers are gonna be so distracted by our fauvist magnetism they will start spilling whiskey sours over the clientele right in the middle of our steamy renditions of Cherokee. I hope my fellow jazzers don't buy into the hype and start actually having more sex. Or worse still, playing more ballads. So please, out there in cyberspace, stop burdening us with the label of superstud. Wait. What's that you say? It's only jazz tweeters and jazz websites that are actually talking about this? Well, that's a relief. Then it's just wish-fulfillment; like that study due out soon about jazz musicians as big earners.

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