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"Without
realizing it," Bill says, "I have been writing a book for years, thanks to my
collection of old date books, scrawled notes, concert programs, half-forgotten
jokes, recalled debacles and mishaps, and stories that come back in the middle
of the night."
An eclectic
and versatile musician, Bill has been involved in every imaginable aspect of the
business, as a jazz recording artist, composer, arranger, studio musician,
accompanist, producer, and educator. And now, author.
Not a memoir, random entries from a
blog, or an autobiography in the traditional sense, Stories of the Road, the
Studios, Sidemen & Singers: 55 Years in the Music Biz is a delightful,
humorous, and entertaining collection of anecdotes from a musician who has truly
done it all.
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All net proceeds from this book will go to the
Musicians Assistance
Program
of the American Federation of
Musicians
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This 171-page, 6x9 soft-cover book
(which includes dozens of photos) is only available here. To purchase through
PayPal click here
Or, you may send a check or money order
for $25, made out to Bill Mays, to: BOOK, c/o Dewey, 147 Blackfoot Road,
Shohola, PA 18458
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A couple of 'teasers' from the
book:
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From "The Studios" chapter:
The music contractor at NBC, Al
Lapin, was hilarious. He was, after comedian Norm Crosby, the king of
malapropisms. Unlike Crosby, though, Lapin's were completely unintentional.
Needing a synthesizer player on a Tonight Show segment he told the bandleader
Doc Severinsen, "I have Bill Mays coming in to play his sympathizer." One of his
other gems was "tell the guitar players to be sure to bring their ample-boxes."
His best one, though, came when Severinsen told him to call trumpeter Al
Vizzutti to come in and augment the brass section. Lapin was told by the
answering service that Vizzutti was out touring with Chick Corea. Lapin reported
back to Doc: "Couldn't get Al. He's out with some chick in
Korea!"
From the "You-Can't-Make-This-Stuff-Up Dept."
chapter:
Many years went by between the
time I left L.A. and then reconnected with alto saxophonist Bud Shank. Then, in
2006 he was booked into New York's Iridium jazz club for a week. It so happens I
got an ear infection a few days before our opening night. It worsened, and the
day of the gig I went to The Manhattan Eye, Ear and Throat Hospital. I was in
pain and could hear only slightly in one ear. The receptionist, a beautiful,
well-endowed young lady was questioning me and filling out forms. Upon learning
my occupation, she said, "Jazz? Wow, I love it. Iridium? My favorite club." I
said, "Sounds like you must be a real jazz fan, am I right?" Without a word she
reached her right hand over to the top of her sweater and pulled it down. On the
upper third of her left breast she had a tattoo of an alto sax, complete with
the keys, neck and mouthpiece. I think my ear cleared right up. I didn't dare
ask her if she had a tenor sax on the other
one.
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