Perhaps a column on jazz music isn't quite the the proper place to talk about Bing Crosby, since he can scarcely be called a jazz musician. Then again, Bing has been identified with this kind of music for a long time, and its influence on his singing has been so marked, that I believe he wouldn't be the same without it. After all, he and the Rhythm Boys were making records with Bix Beiderbecke back in the Twenties, and since then some of his best work has been done in the company of swing artists (And if you didn't see Bing and Louie Armstrong in "Pennies From Heaven" you missed a treat). Today, of course, he's the only male ballad singer who is tolerated by members of his own sex. The luscious-lipped groaners of the Ray Eberle variety may be all right for a few frustrated high-school girls, but for those who want to hear somebody just plain sing a tune minus the phoney, studied emotional decorations, there's only one Bing Crosby.

My guess as to the secret of his success is that he actually doesn't sing very much better than you or I, the only difference being a pleasantly mellow voice and the fact that he knows the words to the tunes. For whenever I hear him on a record, I can't help thinking of a sort of easygoing bum walking down a side street, leisurely kicking at stones in the road, occasionally running a stick along a picket fence for a machine-gun effect, and now and then humming snatches of some-silly tune that he happens to like. It's as if he chanced to be walking by the studio when some-one poked his head out of the door and said, "Hey, you. Carmen Lombardo just saw a mouse and fainted. Do us a favor and take his vocal chorus." So Bing said, "Sure." It was as if he made the record because he happened to be the only one around. He just sang the tune, in other words, the way you would while washing your feet in the bathtub.

That's the way a good jazz artist works, in an effortless, unassuming manner, always injecting just the right kind of "kick" into the improvisation. Nearly all of Crosby's many Decca recording are done in this style, and they show him to be a master of the ad lib, a good example of which is Small Fry, not exactly hot music, but with that quality of informal spontaneity which you hear in Louie Armstrong and others. Best of all is his famous Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams, where Bing discovered that he was singing the wrong part of the tune at the wrong time. Without any hesitation he went on: "They cut out eight bars, the dirty--And I didn't know which eight bars they were gong to cut. Why don't somebody tell me these things around here? Holy--I'm going off my nut." And you'd be surprised how funny an ordinary cussword can sound with a string section background. Unfortunately this gem of Papa Bing's can be heard only on dubbings from the original master. I was fortunate enough to get one. Line forms to the right.

NEWS AND NEW RELEASES. If you want to write this column next year, show up at the Crimson (14 Plympton Street) on Wednesday, April 16, at 6 o'clock, when you'll get information on the competition. No requirements. All you have to do is like swing music. . . . Record of the week, any week, is Gene Krupa's Georgia on my Mind, which shows that Krupa's band is one of the country's top five when it wants to be. It's a tasteful arrangement of a really exceptional tune, and features a vocal by one Anita O'Day, whose singing was as pleasant a surprise tome as it will be to you. Miss O'Day really has the right idea on how to phrase this kind of a tune. Consequently she's the closest thing to a female Teagarden I've ever heard. Reverse is a riff number entitled Alreet, a phrase currently popular with the Lindy's set. Mediocre arrangement is saved by Krupa's background drumming and more of Anita O'Day's vocal (OKEH) . . . Half the Count Basie rhythm section (Jo Jones and the Count himself) are featured with the Benny Goodman sextet on I've Found A New Baby. Jones' drumming is superb, and well supported by Artic Bernstein on string bass. The reverse, Breakfast Feud, contains some tenor sax which shows Georgie Auld to be improving by leaps and bounds. There are few white tenor sax which shows Georgie Auld to be improving by leaps and bounds. There are few white tenor men who can come near him these days (COLUMBIA) . . . Reissue of the week is Ride Red Ride by the old Mills Blue Rhythm band, which includes Red Allen, Buster Bailey, and J. C. Higginbotham. For a real "killer" tune, you can't go wrong on this. It's played at a breakneck pace, and is a fight to the finish, although it's hard to say who wins (OKEH) . . . Fats Waller turns out more insane novelty on "All That Meat and No Potatoes and Buckin' the Dice, latter including tenor sax by Gene Cedric. One of these days people are going to realize what a mean horn he plays (BLUEBIRD).