What’s in a Jazz Nickname?

I once met a fighter pilot whose call-sign was “Ice.” I remember thinking it was one of the coolest nicknames I’d ever heard. Obviously this guy was just a cold-blooded, analytical machine, ruling the skies with a clear head and a stomach of steel.
“No,” he said, “not Ice… I.C.E. It’s an acronym. It stands for Inadvertent Cable Engagement.”

One time, when coming into land he didn’t realise that his tailhook was down—although he worked it out pretty quickly when he hit the arresting cable. I.C.E. – maybe not as cool as I first thought.

Jazz is no different. Whilst these names often appear super-cool, and have certainly become so over the course of time as they have entered jazz folklore, they often didn’t start out like that. And they could so easily have been different.

Take Cannonball Adderley. Some say he got the name Cannonball because he had the appetite of a Cannibal (with the name just morphing from one to the other over time). Some say it’s because he was shaped like a Cannonball—i.e., round, rotund, globular. If the nickname was indeed about his body shape, he probably got away lightly because there are plenty of other spherical objects he could have been likened to. Tennis Ball Adderley. Bubble Adderley. Uranus Adderley.

Take Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson who burnt his hair off whilst trying to straighten it with some new-fangled chemical technique. Vanity Vinson maybe? Slaphead? Baldy?

Take Louis Armstrong. His wide mouth spawned at least two nicknames—Dipper Mouth and Satchel Mouth. It’s a good job he was so likable, as saying someone has a big mouth isn’t usually a compliment. Froggy Armstrong? Hippo Mouth?

Take Charlie “Yardbird” Parker. Was it his love of chicken (yardbirds) that got him this nickname? Imagine if he liked meatloaf, yams, or grits. Grits Parker? Yams Parker? Actually, it might have still worked, he was that good.

And take Jelly Roll Morton. No…maybe not! I’ll let you look that one up yourself.

Dizzy Gillespie was erratic on stage and off. Lucky Thompson wore a dirty sweatshirt with the word “Lucky” emblazoned on it, still visible through the grime. Rabbit Hodges used to nibble lettuce. Bunk Johnson used to tell tall tales. All of these names could have come out very differently.

But this is jazz we’re talking about, so even the nicknames are allowed to be a little off-beat. Basketball can have its Magic—jazz has its Fathead. Politics can have its Honest Abe—jazz has its Angry Man of Jazz. And Hollywood can have its Rock, because jazz has its Hot Lips.

How to create your own jazz nickname:

1. Do you have a childhood nickname? For example, that could make me:
♫Stick Man Milnthorpe (which would be great if I was a drummer, but it’s because I was thin); OR
♫Strawberry Head Milnthorpe (because I had voluminous hair with a middle parting that tapered down to my narrow chin—giving the overall impression of a strawberry).

2. Do you have a dominant physical feature or personality trait?
♫Shiny Milnthorpe (because I’m bald); OR
♫Check Milnthorpe (because I play a lot of chess).

3. Does your instrument of choice, or the way you play it, have a distinctive feature?
♫Glide Milnthorpe (because I play trombone)
♫Bum Note Milnthorpe (just…because)

4. Have you done anything stupid, or borderline criminal, in your past?
♫Speedin’ Milnthorpe (although my wife would then have to be called Really Speedin Milnthorpe)
♫Tattoo Milnthorpe (don’t ask)

5. Lastly, if you can’t extract something from the options above, why not just pick your favourite animal? That’s always a winner.
♫Polar Bear Milnthorpe. (I’d shorten it to Polar or just Bear);
♫Tortoise Milnthorpe (reflecting my solo-ing style perhaps).

Let us know what names you come up with.
– Tortoise Milnthorpe