The rest of the best with selected songs. Full mix still here (same mix as last post).
Disco at Christmas pt 4
Disco at Christmas pt 5
8/13 - Mission Chinese: Spicy Good Hell
Tuneyards - Powa
Sichuan pickles
Celia, Sam, Nate, and I
went to Mission Chinese for dinner with a promise that it was one of
the hottest restaurants in the country. Faced with an hour wait we
retired to Hog and Rocks for better beer than the last time we went and a
pot of cheese. Returning, we realized we'd been skipped. Fortunately
Nate knew a server, and standing outside we celebrated seeing her spread
her arms for a hug. We were in. Over the course of a frenzied two hour
spice festival which Celia later described as "being in a red tinted
[positive] Chinese hell", we ate fried pork belly, tea smoked eel, veal
ribs, thrice cooked bacon, among other things. Nate's server friend
brought us all of the things we didn't order, because she wanted us to
try them :) which warrants, for the first time and last time, the use of
a smiley face on this blog.
9/23 - Chez Ruby-isse Bourgeois Birthday Dinner
El Coco - Mondo Disco
Le table
Catherine's birthday involved the following menu:
Amuse Bouches:
(1) Tomales Bay Oysters in the Half Shell with Mignonette Sauce
(2) Baked Garlic with White Cheese and Peasant Bread
Soup:
(3) Corn Soup with Poblano Chiles
(4) Carrot and Shallot Soup with Chervil Cream
Entree:
(5) Charcoal Grilled Loin of Pork with Grilled Leeks and Red Peppers
(6) Potato and Wild Mushroom Gratin
(6a) A vegan entree: not Alice Water's specialty...ideas anyone?
Salad:
(7) Warm Salad with Tiny Escarole and Lettuce
(8) Tomato and Rocket Salad
Cheese Course:
(9) w. Figs and Walnuts
(10) +A good selection of fine cheeses (at least four or five -soft, stinky, Alice says good to have a theme to compare)
Dessert:
(11) Poached Pears and Figs in Zinfandel with Cassis Cream
(12) Apple Tarte Tatin with Apple Cider Sherbet
Andy, Tom, and Celia working on the Pork Loin + Potatoes
Wow! And she didn't have to make any of it. A brilliant idea for gourmets on special days. Sometime after this meal I learned what amuse bouche meant. Mouth amuser, love it... The guy who made the potatoes followed Alice Waters's recipe which involved soaking and then drying the potatoes with a cheesecloth repeatedly. He said the result tasted like crap, so he whipped something up involving putting potatoes and cheese in the oven. Probably the best course, in my opinion. Good thing we ate at Chez Rubyisse and not the other one. Celia and I brought cheese, which was successful, coming off our European education. Andy commented that if most people really love all but one of the cheeses (due to unreal stinkiness), and everyone else love all of the cheeses, then it means the cheeses were a hit. Wise words. Following this dinner, there was again a DJ dance party, and again, it was a good idea. Even after someone (was it you?) turned a hose on full blast through the window. Unsolved mystery. There were also many times as many desserts as you see on the menu.
11/10 - Dia de los Cumpleanos Taana Gardner - Work That Body
Churros served fresh in front of the Mayor's Mansion
A third bday. Celia and I created an enchilada shmorgasbord for her 24th. We served habenero pineapple tilapia, chicken mole, traditional sweet potato pinto bean, and chili verde spinach goat cheese black bean. All in enchilada form. For the second year running we composed a giant long table through the front of the Mayor's Mansion, though this year no one died or screeched in a Southern accent. The event was topped off by a surprise. I snagged Israel whose Rico's Churros are famous out on 40th and Foothill. We carried a plate of churros ricos y calientes into the house with candles, and then voyaged out into the front yard to begin the process of trying to keep up with Israel as he fried beautiful lengths of homemade dough without end. Ultimately we were overwhelmed and everyone settled for taking giant bags home for snacks, breakfast, lunch, and dinner the following day. Again, for the second year running Celia succeeded in knocking everyone out with the pure intensity of her celebration of choice, and the party was over by ten thirty, which was good because we needed to lie down.
12/17 - Food Drama pt 2: Holiday Sandwiches Janet Jackson - When I Think of You
'veggie lasagna' - roasted eggplant garlic and zucchini - mozzarella and marinara
bacon-egg-an-cheese - cilantro pumpkinseed pesto - english muffin
bloody mary corned beef - pickled onion and radish - rye roll - celery
Cheeses
[can't remember, nice work though, Wiley]
Food shot: Bloody Mary Corned Beef 'plated' tableside
Corning the beef meant leaving it in a ziploc in a brine for two weeks. Piece of cake! This was a great 5 course meal to host (each sandwich was one course) because I made the sauces in advance, and all that I had to do between feasting was build up the sandwiches and heat the sauce. Per Eric the Psychologist (my food guru)'s suggestion I served the sauce 'tableside', meaning everyone had their plate ready, and I just ladled the steaming sauce on top. I chose this meal over the first Food Drama because it was more relaxed for me, and the food was more fun. Eating a multi-course meal while sitting on a couch in a 'studio plus' is hard to justify. I think that the Food Drama pt 2 was successful in making a case for it though. Since then I have obtained a nice round folding table that will be the site of FD3. A final note: none of the bread fell apart, which was an initial concern. This may be because we ate everything quickly, unimpeded by the insane fire of real Tortas Ahogadas. Some people even used but a single paper towel. Over the course of the night we learned about TaskRabbit and Flow from Wiley. Both basically involve getting other people to do stuff for you. TaskRabbit in particular smacks of servitude as people attempt to outbid each other until finally someone is doing someone else's laundry for $1.50. Maybe I will TaskRabbit a sous chef for the next Food Drama.
12/30 - Lukshon New Year's Eve Eve
Tom Tom Club - Genius of Love
Talking Heads - Making Flippy Floppy
Lukshon Chicken Pops
In LA I learned a new word for Christmas/Hannukah/Pagan gift giving and celebrating. Apparently Luke's family has always just called it 'end of the year presents'. One of Celia's end of the year presents for me was a trip to a nice restaurant in LA. We originally considered Animal, but I quickly admitted to myself that Celia would not be able to eat anything on the menu. Instead we chose Lukshon, invited the rest of Celia's fam, and cancelled the cashing in of the end of the year present. Going with a larger group was excellent. We each order a couple plates and then they came fast and furious, some paired, some alone, always perfectly timed. The chicken pops were a blast and I'm planning to imitate the Chinese style pork belly. Most impressive, however, was the water service, which involved at least 5 bussers and servers correctly pouring the water of our choice (sparkling or still). Gretchen even switched from one to the other, and the next guy to stop by knew without asking. A miracle! Another mystery was how they knew which bottle was not sparkling, until we saw that one bottle had 'not sparkling' printed on its side. Plus, our waiter had a serious 90s MTV veejay thing going on with bleached white teeth. A very positive and encouraging dude. By far the best service I have ever received in a restaurant. As Eric the Psychologist says about fine dining, 'They treat you better than your own family ever would'.
(Thank you to Gretchen and David for the meal!! And to Noel for desiring the same things as me on the menu.)
2012 Donna Summer - Lucky
Feeling good about future prospects. I'm looking forward to continuing to eat good meat and produce from the farmers market, buying eggs from Becca's friend Val, checking out a few more fancy schmancy restaurants, buying a few more cooking utensils (good pan, good pot, steamer, wok, meat grinder, slotted spoon), going back to NOLA, continuing the Food Drama series, potentially starting a Food Drama blog (in lieu of some quality???!), Andy's chicken and waffle bday brunch, 3cheeseketeers, family meals, having people over, eating at your house, getting taken out to dinner and vice verse, doing specialty food weeks (right now its Hunan week), and eating after cycling.
Meals with selected tracks. Full track listing below. Full mix here.
Disco at Christmas pt 1
Disco at Christmas pt 2
Disco at Christmas pt 3
1/14 - Lobster Disco Felix - Tiger Stripes
Rock lobster!
Andy's annual birthday party involving intense food consumption. This past year it was lobster + an incredible amount of incredible other foods. I remember the deserts being the bomb too. For some reason we thought it would be smart to have a dance party after stuffing ourselves. We were right.
3/14 - Anniversary Eating Festival + Super Flu
Change - A Lover's Holiday
For Celia and I's annual anniversary we headed up to Sonoma and rented a room at a B&B in Jenner. I immediately came down with the Super Flu, which ended up lasting for two weeks. This happened in part because I lowered my body's defenses with a day of wine tasting, burritos, burgers and Blimey the Wanker at the Stumptown Brewery, and dessert and whiskey at the River's End. I was able to eat so much because my brain had disconnected from my body, so I was utterly impressed with Celia's ability to chow.
4/2 - 3 Cheesketeers Round 1
Dinosaur L - Clean on Your Bean #1
A series of emails resulted in the first of a rotating series of Beer and Cheese tastings with Nate and Gabe. I hosted the first on my landlord's second story porch with IPA and cheddar, Porter and Gruyere, and cherve and gueze. We talked about life and food. Rebecca Black had recently become a sensation and Nate alluded to a theory, a 'very dark' theory, about the hit song, but never revealed what the heck he was talking about. Subsequent tastings involved bringing cheese to Beer Revolution (Gabe) and hitting up a high end cheese cafe in the Mission before retiring to Nate's apartment (Nate).
4/20s - Spring Break Food/Brewery/Bike Tour
Wayne Wonder - Dreamland
Sign at defunct vineyard
Eric and I mounted our trusty steeds and headed first south to Santa Cruz to the Seabright Brewery and then a sumptuous Passover Feast. We were driven North and then departed from my house in West Oakland straight to Napa. We rode through the valley, hit a brewery there, camped. Headed to Healdsburg for Bear Republic: 3 beers each, giant burgers, appetizers, and then 15 miles through the rain to Santa Rosa. Russian River Brewing Co and pizza. Hop Kiln in Sebastapool on a great loop through Guerneville and the River Valley. Finally we rode south to SF, leaving Santa Rosa only to discover that Petaluma was very close and the Lagunitas brewery was closed?! They were persuaded to allow us to drink a big bottle of breakfast stout to fuel our legs for the 65 mile day. Descending into Nicasio Valley looked like the land before time!!
6/11 - Fried Chicken/Corn Dogs at Dirtfoot Farm
Indeep - Buffalo Bill
Ian getting ready to fry
The title more or less explains this. Ian didn't kill anyone or burn down anything with the deep fryer. I think the corn dogs were the best I have ever had. Nothing like fried good food walking around an urban farmstead.
7/? - French Dinner Parties
Chic - Est-ce que c'est Chic
El Coco - Dancing in Paradise
L to R: Catherine (UK), Bernhard (DE), ? (B)
Celia and I rode through much of Western Europe on our bikes. The food was good everywhere of course. In France we were treated to at least 3 dinner parties. Our various hosts planned ahead, invited bike friends and neighbors and served it up right. The highlight of every meal was the cheese, served after a couple of courses, and before dessert. To reprise a quote: "I'm sorry, but I must have wine with my cheese" (Pierre, after we had earlier decided to just drink beer).
Disco at Christmas Track List
weldon irvine - pogo stick
wayne wonder - dreamland
ponta de lonca africano - jorge ben
kid creole &coconuts - i'm a wonderful thing
tom tom club - genuis of love
yella - yella!!
disco 4 - he's santa claus
indeep - buffalo bill
tuneyards - powa
bernard wright - video generation
mean machine - disco dream
dhar braxton - jump back (set me free)
janet jackson - when i think of you
change - a lover's holiday
prince - boys and girls
el coco - mondo disco
chic- est-ce que c'est chic
dinosaur l - clean on your bean #1
katie kissoon - you're the one (you're my number one)
taana gardner - work that body
talking heads - making flippy floppy
donna summer - lucky
felix - tiger stripes
el coco - dancing in paradise
It is thrilling the way a song or place pops up. It was
something that we did not pay any mind, and then it has suddenly become
immensely important. The transitional moment occurs in the rhythms of
course. Walking city streets we have passed it many times, or at least
passed its grave or its newest home. Later on we realize that it was there all along. Instead of being the last song on the New Year mixtape for Misson St. we had actually burned the CD backwards and it was put there as the first track, by some food god. We look around wondering if the genius who arranged this mix, intended for driving from New York City to New Haven, CT, was messing with us. Rather than petering out the process becomes intensely focused, building, first numbing your tongue and body with distinct peppercorn rhythms, then burning the crap out of your face with its 1000 chili melody.
At Mission Chinese they play gangsta rap, and the ambiance feels like a positive version of a dark, red, enchilado hell. Everything is recommended and water is all you will need. Stay for the whole song.
Darlene - Doc Box and B. Fresh, 12" (1990) Easy Groove - B. T. O, 12" (1977)
The connection between popular music and popular breakfast joints works as follows: someone suggests a preference to you, you are hesitant, you go or listen, you are uncertain, you go or listen again, and after much uncertainty you find yourself more or less in a kind of love. Then it becomes your shared moment with your loved ones in turn.
That is all fine. Poker Face and a familiar breakfast have plenty in common. Far rarer is the restaurant that changes you in its changes. It is not so much that you become used to it, or that you accept the grease and the often-cigarette-laden toilet. Nor even that you find these things comforting, familiar, and reliable.
[You have to listen to the entirety of Darlene, by the way.]
There are the comfortable restaurants and songs, and then there are the ones that abruptly change you. Its not that hand-handled homefries are familiar, it is that you find yourself wanting them. Not that water with no ice in little school style plastic cups is appealing, but that you have to have it. Suddenly you burst forth, not lulled by the monotony of the normal, but freed by the strange. The dinner for breakfast option. The huevos rancheros covered with cold cheese and salsa. The hot dogs at 6:30am. The mimosas. The honeydew. The homemade granola, bread, muffins, hot sauce, and the Aunt Jemima's syrup.
It is the cornucopia of the first Thanksgiving briefly transformed into a Prince song, eaten, and then turned back into natural crap. It is country music written by George Clinton. Having eaten, and now leaving the restaurant, your feet fall heavily onto Brook St. and you realize you are a modern man, and that Loui's is the most modern food you have ever eaten.
A central concept of the French Laundry, a 3 Michelin starred restaurant in Napa, is that of diminishing returns. That is to say, your first bite is your best bite, and the rest of the course is rapidly driving your tastebuds into boring town. This means that they serve really small plates, and the flavors pop like the snares do.
This may be a scientific fact. A biological outcome that is derived from the enjoyment of difference. Sure, sure. Everything different is fun. Unfortunately, that means food is pretty boring stuff. It is the music-loving equivalent of a high school dance. The new, popping song comes on and the kids go wild with recognition, and because of the newness. The song is uncanny, in that it is the familiar made unfamiliar. It is something your mouth could make up, but did not so far here, on this dance floor, with these people.
Songs can be just the same. "Juicy" comes on and everybody puts it in their mouth like foie gras that is oh-so-familiar. Everybody raps about "when Christmas missed us" as though they ate things like this on the regular. Soon though, they realize that the beat is a little slow, nobody learned the words to the third verse, and super fatty liver is weird to chew on. The returns diminish.
Thomas Keller (owner/creator of the French Laundry) is like a DJ at a high school dance. He excites with snippets of the very best, and leaves you no time to drag your feet or your tongue. Conversely, a DJ who plays Arthur Russell's Dinosaur's "Kiss Me Again" (1978) is like a chef who feeds you things you have never heard of, and then when you eat them they do not stop tasting good, and in fact taste even better as you chew, so that by the end of the course you are dancing.
Experiencing even a high school dance of food is supposedly quite astonishing, as is listening to Dinosaur's 12" single on vinyl in the rustic French setting of a discotheque. May we all be so lucky as to do one, or the other, or both, in this new year.
What I mean to say is that there is something that resonates in "Juicy" for all of us, just in the same way that anyone could be awed by the pate at the FL. There are things in life that represent the distance between where we started and where are. $700 dinners. Champagne. Rare disco. It was all a dream...
Mary Jane - Stonefire Band, Grilled Lobster (1984)
2:30 AM on the streets of the Mission in SF California.
Bacon wrapped hot dog.
You see what I'm getting at?
The BWHD, as we quickly learned to call it, was as light on its feet in the mouth as the persistent drums, 'roaming all over the place'. The grilled onions and jalapenos the horn hit progression found only on the downbeat. The lines of mustard, mayo, and ketchup the unfailing chorus. Uncomplicated. Complete. Some would say perfect... The contents unGoogleable, the experience unforgettable.
I've always been afraid of delis. Being raised vegetarian, I didn't end up in one very often. The one we did frequent occasionally was rarely busy, and not too intimidating. These facts meant I never developed the assertive nature necessary to stride boldly up to the counter and order something. Anything. Especially not in a big city style deli, with fifteen runners behind the counter making 10-second sandwiches. At Genova Delicatessen and Ravioli in Temescal I, unsurprisingly, felt afraid. Especially afraid when I saw that my friend had already taken a number and was gesturing that I grab my own. Couldn't we order together? I wondered. We talked about the options non stop for the next ten minutes, waiting to be served. The Olympic Team behind the counter did 24 numbers in that time, finally coming to us. I ordered a specialty sandwich and then acquiesced to every suggestion made by my sandwich maker. She spent another ten minutes making it, and I leaned nervously against the counter wondering if you could buy a beer 'for here'. I steeled myself when she returned and asked - you could - and then got a mondo pickle to boot. I had made it through the fog into the groovy joy of a Panchetta, fresh Mozarella, and Sundried Tomato (PMT). It was like finally figuring out where you are slipping, when you are slipping into darkness. The pickle was that grandly echoing rim shot.
As a bonus, the woman who took 10 minutes making my sandwich (I think she was new) somehow beat me to the bathroom. Having already waited so long, navigated the perils of the deli, and been so hungry, I felt I had to use it before eating, to cleanse myself of the anxieties of bladder holding and on-the-spot ordering. The at this point unknown person in the bathroom took another 8 minutes, and when I had given up and returned to my seat to do my best to enjoy the first bite of cured funky pig, I noticed the last place sandwich lady, sneaking past. It certainly topped everything off. I peed away my worries, and returned to the stylings of the Ramsey Lewis Sandwich Trio: cured ham, fresh moz, and oily tomatoes.
At Champa Garden in Oakland, CA you can get such a mix of tastes and textures that your mouth might fall off. The Champa Sampler is fried rice ball salad (fried rice with preserved pork), lao sausage, fried spring roll, noodles, and a sauce that sings the high notes like the Chi-Lites. According to my buddy Matt Clark, you are supposed to put everything (all of the previously listed delites) at once into the fresh lettuce. Add the fresh cilantro and mint too.
The Temps doing Bill Withers' classic. This song has been covered over 100 times by folks ranging from MJ and Al Green to Akon and Ja Rule. The Temps covered it less than a year after the original release, and were nevertheless the tenth group/artist to do so. I like this version because they approach a slowly-dying state similar to what Still Bill does in his original. It just drags on when there ain't no sunshine (when she is gone).
Next up, the Temps sort of redoing their classic War, already popularized by Edwin Starr's cover (both from 1971), in a much slower and more psychedelic (as I understand the word) version. It is a little repetitive, but only because it goes on for so long. Much more serious than the first version, it involves chanting, drums coming in and out, and rising and falling emotions: an austere audio anti-war rally that still grooves hard as a toned bottom. Stop the War Now - The Temptations, Solid Rock (1972)
It used to be that you could expect pings off the coast from submarines. Now there are only the winged beasts, the fishermen, and the love. The love went out to sea. Do not ask how we know. The only thing that is really clear is that the best parts of the song sound like sonar. Sonar searching for love.
The Quality: This song is about going down, in all the ways that one does.
'I don't know what this gold is doing or where its going... who's gold is this, man?'
It may be that we are separated from certain realities by filters like media, popular opinion, and our own important lives. Poignancy is squished out by the filters, and the muck becomes mundane. Masekela puts a little muck into an everyday sounding tone in the following track. In its pacing and his only slightly strained mood, the question is asked from the perspective of the miner: who's gold is this? No comment on the political nature of the arrangement, just a little voice from within it. A position within it. Home was so groovy; exploitation is confusing.
These artists who grew out of Africa really really knew what they were doing. I can hear an absence of influence, in terms of so many influences that are familiar to my ear. I like this one because of its name.
Well, apologies, apologies. To all the loyal Some Quality readers. We were on a funky vacation in Vietnam and Cambodia. It was fun, and everything. And I know I should have warned you. To compensate, I'll follow up with some feel good songs. And tomorrow: some MJ tributation.
I really love this and I think you will too. Jungle Fever - The Chakachas, 12" (1972)
I've realized that in the past few weeks I've been focusing a lot on work famed artists did that did not, in itself, lead to their fame. Here's another one.
First of all, James Brown is the right, and only, guy for this job:
Second of all, in 1979 he produced an album for one of his long time back up singers on Salsoul. I know that people often say that Salsoul is worth buying because they did interesting, often odd stuff, but I always get stuff that is way too heavy on the kind of disco that people wanted to die. Not this though, soul brother number one knows what he is doing in the production. This is the kind of music that was made for people to dance to. And not only to dance to, to really enjoy and get on down to:
Early funk based hip hop. This is so much fun. I am currently engaged in trying to get Rich JC 'in the house' via a Craigslist search. Soon I will live in Oakland and listen to this record there, it will sound so good.
This is possibly the widest lens I've ever seen in a autobiographical rap. He just travels all over the place not really doing anything. You know, though, that he was having a lot of fun and just doesn't tell you about it.
Singing, and being a singer, is very often related to being a man or being a woman (whatever the individual case may be). This is pronounced even more so in the love-song filled halls of rhythm and blues. One has got to be a guy in order to sing to a girl. The soul singer's voice becomes infused with that sex-meaning, even when the lyrics stray from love (see everyone's mother melting over her favorite R&B artist's voice). Lady crooners too need to fill up their voices with passion. The difference between the voice of the male singer and the female singer is somewhat ineffable (certainly related to pitch), and not necessarily limited by the actual gender of the singer (uncertainty as to who it is that is hitting those high notes). Even on her first record in 1958, Nina Simone seems to trouble this distinction. But she does so more profoundly than simply shifting into a masculine register, rather her voice falls distinctly outside of sexual categories: Love Me or Leave Me - Nina Simone, Little Girl Blue (1959)
The timbre of her voice is surprising. There is something metallic about it, and it is, of course, quite eerie. In her rendition of Gershwin's "Porgy", she somehow conveys a sensation beyond the intended emotion of the song. This sensation is apparent from even the first line: "I loves you Porgy..." It is a sorrow beyond concerns of this world. Departing from the tragedy of the dramatic situation (which is what covering a single song from a musical does), she sings the blues, the pure quality of the blues. The Gershwin song is just a vehicle for her tenor:
Conceiving her status as 'artist' proves quite enjoyable. She transcends many typical categories, including, importantly, The Feminine. This, again, is something particularly rare for soul artists. Her genius itself, and the fact that she composed her own music contributes to her transcendence of gender roles. To get a little theoretical: It is not that Simone accesses some status reserved for the male-singer, and it is also not that she becomes some version of male-soul. Furthermore, this is not to say that the woman in soul can do less than the man. Rather that, because she is not the one with the 'power to make soul' (a power reserved for record executives and successful male artists), the woman has the opportunity to become Soul. The man can only use Soul, while the woman can be it. What makes Simone particularly incredible is that when she becomes Soul, she does not become sensuous:
Watching this video I just keep thinking to myself how so cool she is. What I wrote above about her "becoming Soul", I don't care about as much as this feeling that she is doing her own thing in such a fucking serious way.
Comments from the Aging Well post on Ramsey Lewis, from two of my most music heavy buddies.
NateS: Your Ramsey post reminded me of another cat who made the "crossover" from jazz to...funk, or something: Roy Ayers. With the benefit of hindsight it starts to look a little tragic how so many jazz men and women threw down their axes in the funk ring come mid70s when everyone suddenly decided that the scene was dead (or maybe just not lucrative) and made shitty "crossover" music that ended up appealing to just about nobody (SAY this TO this). How would music be different today if they had never strayed?
So who was successful at 'the leap' besides Ramsey and Roy? I mean successful artistically, sorry George "Breezin'" Benson (that one really hurts. Early GB is dope.) SO, Rich JC, countless anonymous readers---Eddie Harris? Miles, duh. Uh...John Klemmer? Dude is kind of a beast, I swear.
Roy Ayers' vibes.
Uncle Jam: Eddie Harris was definitely one of the first to come to mind, but man, there are SO many "jazz" artists that recorded tons of x-over material, and, IMO, in that mix there are TONS of great R&B tracks by those we tend to primarily consider "jazz" artists.
Hell, almost every R&B cat in NOLA in the 60s & 70s came up playing "jazz". Seriously-almost all of them. And that goes for much of the rest of the country too. Booker T & The MGs and the rest of the Stax instrumentalists played in jazz bands at night after they left the studio.
Nowadays we view jazz, soul, funk, blues, and rock as separate entities with distinct, albeit vague, boundaries, but most interviews I've read/heard suggest that these cats viewed music as more of seamless continuum. It was all just "the blues".
disclaimer: this is only jazz artists who were well-known when they went x-over; go deeper and there are tons more. also doesn't include jazz artists covering pop songs, or vice versa.
