

He became even more withdrawn and uncommunicative than he’d been, and was institutionalized a few times afterwards, at Creedmoor and Pilgrim State hospitals.

But Powell was never the same after Philadelphia railroad cops beat him severely in 1945. Monk’s gifted young running buddy had the chops to apply Charlie Parker’s lithe grace and wit to the keyboard, and no shortage of self-confidence he’d nudge other pianists off the bench whenever he had the itch to play. Compared to what Bud went through, Clint Eastwood’s Bird is light musical comedy. The broad outlines of the towering bebop pianist’s life were clear. Ramsey, Jr.’s The Amazing Bud Powell: Black Genius, Jazz History, and the Challenge of Bebop (University of California Press/Chicago: Center for Black Music Research) effectively doubles the number of detailed accounts of the pianist’s life and art. The recent, concurrent publication of Pullman’s Wail: The Life of Bud Powell (Bop Changes) and Guthrie P. The latter was published in 1993, not long before Peter Pullman resolved to write a definitive biography, which stemmed from his documentary work on a 1994 Powell Verve roundup. Till 2012 there was an odd dearth of authoritative books on Bud Powell before, the most notable volumes were Francis Paudras’ memoir Dance of the Infidels, and Alan Groves and Alyn Shipton’s skimpy The Glass Enclosure.
