Bix Beiderbecke stood among the foremost jazz figures of the 1920s. His vivid existence, swift ascent followed by decline, and later elevation to martyr status turned him into an icon well before his passing. Equipped with a luminous and singular sound plus a strikingly inventive approach to improvisation, he faced only one serious rival among cornet players of the decade in Louis Armstrong, though contrasting timbres and approaches render direct comparison pointless.
Displaying prodigious talent early on, he reproduced melodies at the piano by age three. While receiving standard instruction on that instrument, he acquired cornet skills entirely on his own. Drawn to the liberties of jazz after hearing the Original Dixieland Jazz Band, he pursued that path despite his conventional parents viewing such pursuits as trivial. They enrolled him at Lake Forest Military Academy in 1921, an institution situated near Chicago, then the hub of jazz activity. Frequent absences led to his expulsion. Following a short return home, he devoted himself fully to music. In 1923 he emerged as the leading cornetist with the Wolverines, and the spirited ensemble produced several landmark recordings the next year.
Toward the end of 1924 Beiderbecke departed the Wolverines for Jean Goldkette’s orchestra, only to lose the position over his limited music-reading skills. He spent 1925 in Chicago refining those abilities. The subsequent year found him with Frankie Trumbauer’s orchestra in St. Louis. Though already struggling with alcohol, 1927 marked his peak period. He performed with Jean Goldkette’s orchestra, captured his piano landmark “In a Mist”—one of four originals reflecting Debussy’s influence—and recorded numerous classic tracks with a Trumbauer-led small group, among them his standout solos on “Singin’ the Blues,” “I’m Comin’ Virginia,” and “Way Down Yonder in New Orleans.” He then joined Paul Whiteman’s large and successful orchestra. Far from resenting the band’s broad stylistic range, he valued the distinction of working with the era’s most popular ensemble. His own preferred personal statement remained the notated part he played on George Gershwin’s “Concerto in F.”
Within Whiteman’s ranks his contributions often appeared as concise flashes of brilliance in unexpected contexts, such as the remarkable chorus he delivered on “Sweet Sue.” Output remained steady through 1928, yet the following year his drinking began to take a serious toll. After suffering a collapse, attempting a recovery, and being sent in September 1929 back to Davenport for rest, he managed a handful of melancholy recordings in 1930 before dying at twenty-eight, undone by the toxic bootleg liquor of Prohibition.
The exhaustive volume Bix: Man & Legend supplies the complete account. Beiderbecke’s discs, including lesser-known items, stay available because admirers regard every phrase he recorded as exceptional.
