I love the rhythm in a riff

I love the Billy Eckstine Big Band circa 1945-46.
It ultimately failed, because of music economic realities following World War II and changing tastes on the dance floor.
The band also failed for the very reasons why I love it so:
Eckstine fostered young musicians who wanted to experiment. Dance fans didn't want to hear Budd Johnson, Fats Navarro, Kenny Dorham, Dexter Gordon or Gene Ammons packing as many notes as they could into a song. Dance fans wanted simple. Eckstine gave them complicated. Mr. B. gave them embryonic BE-BOP.
I am sitting here sipping coffee, preparing for a Saturday work shift and trying to sing along to Eckstine. It's easy on ballads such as "A Cottage for Sale" or "Last Night." Singing along is a lot more difficult during frenzied up-tempo numbers such as as "The Jitney Man."
Art Blakey is banging away on the drums, too.
That's reason enough to love Mr. B and his band.