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JAZZ, ETC.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

The newly arrived jazz-lover, whether V-12 or civilian, might as well resign himself right now. Boston just isn't the jazz hub of the universe. The best jazz that can be found a present is the series of Sunday afternoon jam sessions at the Ken, on the corner of Tremont and Warrenton Streets, just beyond the Hotel Bradford. Last Sunday the Ken featured Pete Brown and the Jones Brothers, a local trio with an overdoes of vibraharp, with Cecil Scott's house band in the background. The same group will probably be there next Sunday. It's not particularly exciting, but it's better than Vanity Fair's Irsh Thursh or the Roseland's Al Rapp and His Oldtimers.

If all you're looking for is a place to dance, you won't be quite so bitterly disappointed. Most of the hotels and night clubs have reasonably competent bands, and the Bradford recently began a series of big-name, commercial bands. But if it's you want, you'd better stick to the records you brought with you.

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