There is something slightly strange about Louis Armstrong's place in American culture.
Armstrong came out of a musical world that now feels almost archaeological: New Orleans brass bands, ragtime, blues, vaudeville, riverboats, marching-band traditions, and the collective improvisation of the earliest jazz. His mentor was Joe "King" Oliver. He recorded with musicians such as Kid Ory and Johnny Dodds. Jelly Roll Morton and Sidney Bechet belonged to roughly the same pioneering generation.
Yet Armstrong somehow kept going.
Not merely in the sense that he continued to work. He remained famous.
By the 1950s he was appearing in movies and on television. In 1964, at age 62, his recording of "Hello, Dolly!" reached number one on the American pop chart, temporarily displacing the Beatles at the height of Beatlemania. Three years later he recorded "What a Wonderful World," the song that for many listeners today is more recognizable than anything from his revolutionary jazz recordings of the 1920s.
This creates an interesting historical question.
Why Armstrong?
Why did one musician from that primordial New Orleans jazz culture travel so much farther into mainstream American popular culture than almost everyone else who came out of it?
Armstrong was not literally the last survivor of early jazz. Some contemporaries lived nearly as long or longer. Nor was he the only astonishing musician the culture produced. But he seems to have accomplished something rarer: he escaped being contained by his own historical period.
