"I hate the music business" . . . "They won't let you stay at the top. They won't give you a chance to breathe" . . . "Autograph hunters? To hell with them! Often I've played for 2,500 or 3,000 people and 1,000 would stand around the stand staring at me. They aren't listening--only gawking" . . . "Then they want autographs. Nothing doing! I'm too busy with my job. Sometimes I let my valet sign my name, and they're just as satisfied." . . . "My friends say I'm a damned fool. They say that these people made me. Want to know my answer? I tell them that if I was made by a bunch of morons, that's just too bad. And besides, if they made me, what do they want my autograph for? You don't worship your own creation, do you?" . . . "The motion picture industry is run by a bunch of stooges" . . .

Believe it or not, the above quotes are from an interview given Michael Mok of the New York Evening Post by clarinetist Artic Shaw.

There isn't much that can be said about it. For a long time, this column has felt that Shaw's contempt for his public has showed itself in his music, he not bothering to play anything but noisy, trite stuff. Mr. Shaw has said that he wanted to get out of the music business. The above Shavian comments should take care of that very nicely. As far as we are concerned, I'affaire Shaw is a closed book, as we suspect Mr. Shaw will be shortly.

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For an evening of pure, concentrated hellraising, we suggest Fats Waller at the Southland. I heard him again last week, and can remember few times when I have had as much fun. The six guys in Fats' band make more music than most of the big bands ever think of making. Eugene Cedric on tenor plays solos that rampage in much the same manner that Chu Berry's do. Everybody else, including Herman Autrey on trumpet, is just as good.

The band prefers one sort of rhythm--a style of jump that starts very softly and lightly and ends by tearing the all gently down. Fats himself plays fine rhythm and occasionally takes off on solo flights that are just as good as anything he has ever done. Plus the fact that he puts on a killer of a show all during the evening, busting all the remaining vest buttons with a little demonstration on the art of trucking at the end of the show.

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The future of swing in Boston looks very bright these days with Bob Crosby coming in for the Harvard-Dartmouth Ball at the Somerset on October 27 and Bunny Berigan camping down at the Southland starting next Monday.

Bunny has been called "the greatest of the whit trumpeters." And there are many that consider him to be better than even the immortal Louis Armstrong. Be this as it may, the point remains that Mr. Berigan can play some very good trumpet when he gets around to it, best examples being his theme "I Can't Get Started" and his solo on the famous Benny Goodman record of "King Porter Stomp."

There have been many rumors of his leaving the band business due to financial troubles. And that he thinks he will accept a job playing as side man for a big studio orchestra.

This type of story perennially springs up about almost everybody in the business. Whether it is true or not, Bunny is going to be worth hearing. As for Mr. Crosby, this is a band that, besides doing most things extremely well, plays slow blues in a way that is worth hearing. Most of the good lead men in the band are from New Orleans, and therefore playing good blues is practically second nature to them. More about this fine bunch next week when a little more space is lying around.